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I 

THE ADVENTURES OF 
TOM SAWYER 


By mark twain 


ILLUSTRATED 



HARPER c5* BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 


Books by 


MARK TWAIN 



ST. JOAN OF ARC 
THE INNOCENTS ABROAD 
ROUGHING IT 
THE GILDED AGE 

A TRAMP ABROAD - ' / 

FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR) : 

PUDD’NHEAD WILSON , ' / . 

SKETCHES NEW AND OLD /' 

THE AMERICAN CLAIMANT 
CHRISTIAN SCIENCE 

A CONNECTICUT YANKEE AT THE COURT OP 
KING ARTHUR . 

THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN 

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF JOAN OF ARC 

LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI 

THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG 

THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER 

THE $30,000 BEQUEST 

THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

TOM SAWYER ABROAD 

WHAT IS MAN? 

THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER 


" '^7 




ADAM’S DIARY 
A DOG’S TALE 

A DOUBLE-BARRELED DETECTIVE STORY 
EDITORIAL WILD OATS 
EVE’S DIARY 

IN DEFENSE OF HARRIET SHELLEY AND 
OTHER ESSAYS 
IS SHAia:SPEARE DEAD? 

CAPT. STORMFIELD'S VISIT TO HEAVEN 

A HORSE’S TALE 

THE JUMPING FROG 

THE £1,000,000 BANK-NOTE 

TRAVELS AT HOME 

TRAVELS IN HISTORY 

MARK TWAIN’S LETTERS 
MARK TWAIN’S SPEECHES 


HARPER & BROTHERS. NEW YORK 
[Established 1817] 

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer 


Copyrighti 187s, 1899. and 1903. by Samltel L. Clemenj 
Copyright, 1917 , by Clara Gabrilowitsch 
Copyright, 1917 ; 1920 by Mark Twain Companv 
Printed in the United States of America 


^ T 1 ‘i 

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• « • 






TO 

MY WIFE 

THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Preface ix 

I. Tom Plays, Fights, and Hides i 

II. The Glorious Whitewasher 12 

III. Busy at War and Love ' . . . 20 

IV. Showing Off in Sunday-school 29 

V. The Pinch-bug and His Prey 43 

VI. Tom Meets Becky 50 

VII. Tick-running and a Heartbreak 65 

VIII. A Pirate Bold to Be 73 

IX. Tragedy in the Graveyard 80 

X. Dire Prophecy of the Howling Dog .... 89 

XI. Conscience Racks Tom 98 

XII. The Cat and the Pain-killer 104 

XIII. The Pirate Crew Set Sail iii 

XIV. Happy Camp of the Freebooters 12 1 

XV. Tom’s Stealthy Visit Home 129 

XVI. First Pipes — “I’ve Lost My Knife” . . . . 136 

XVII. Pirates at Their Own Funeral 149 

XVIII. Tom Reveals His Dream Secret 154 

XIX. The Cruelty of “I Didn’t Think” 166 

XX. Tom Takes Becky’s Punishment 170 

XXI. Eloquence — and the Master’s Gilded Dome . 177 

XXII. Huck Finn Quotes Scripture 185 

XXIII. The Salvation of Muff Potter 189 

XXIV. Splendid Days and Fearsome Nights .... 198 

XXV. Seeking the Buried Treasure 200 

XXVI. Real Robbers Seize the Box of Gold .... 209 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGB 

XXVII. Trembling on the Trail 220 

XXVIII. In the Lair of Injun Joe 224 

XXIX. Huck Saves the Widow 229 

XXX. Tom and Becky in the Cave 239 

XXXI. Found and Lost Again 251 

XXXII. “Turn Out! They're Found!" 263 

XXXIII. The Fate of Injun Joe 267 

XXXIV. Floods of Gold 281 

XXXV. Respectable Huck Joins the Gang .... 285 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


^“lEMME see him, HUCK’” Prontispieu 

TOM GAVE UP THE BRUSH Pacing p. I4 


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PREFACE 


M ost of the adventures recorded in this book 
really occurred; one or two were experiences 
of my own, the rest those of boys who were school- 
mates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from Hfe; Tom 
Sawyer also, but not from an individual — ^he is a 
combination of the characteristics of three boys 
whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the com- 
posite order of architecture. 

The odd superstitions touched upon were all 
prevalent among children and slaves in the West 
at the period of this story — ^that is to say, thirty or 
forty years ago. 

Although my book is intended mainly for the 
entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not 
be shimned by men and women on that account, for 
part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind 
adults of what they once were themselves, and of 
how they felt and thought and talked, and wha^ 
queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in. 

Thb Author. 


Hartford, 1876. 


I 



ADVENTURES 
OF TOM SAWYER 


CHAPTER I 


T OM!" 

No answer. 

“TomT 
No answer. 

“What’s gone with that boy, I wonder? Yon 
TOM!” 


No answer. 

The old lady pulled her spectacles down and 
looked over them about the room; then she put 
them up and looked out under them. She seldom 
or never looked through them for so small a thing 
as a boy; they were her state pair, the pride of her 
heart, and were built for “style,” not service — she 
could have seen through a pair of stove-Hds just as 
well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and 
•then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the 
furniture to hear: 

“Well, I lay if I get hold of you I ’11^” 

She did not finish, for by this time she was bend- 
ing down and pimching tmder the bed with the 


MARK TWAIN 


broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the 
pimches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. 

“I never did see the beat of that boy!’* 

She went to the open door and stood in it and 
looked out among the tomato vines and “jimpson” 
weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So 
she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for 
distance, and shouted: 

“Y-o-u-u Tom!'* 

There was a shght noise behind her and she ttuned 
just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his 
roimdabout and arrest his flight. 

“There! I might ’a’ thought of that closet. 
What you been doing in there?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at 
your mouth. What is that truck?” 

“/ don’t know, aunt.” 

“Well, I know. It’s jam — that’s what it is. 
Forty times I’ve said if you didn’t let that jam alone 
I’d skin you. Hand me that switch.” 

The switch hovered in the air — the peril was 
desperate — 

“My! Look behind you, aimt!” 

The old lady whirled round, and snatched her 
skirts out of danger. The lad fled, on the instant, 
scrambled up the high board fence, and disappeared 
over it. 

His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and 
then broke into a gentle laugh. 

“Hang the boy, can’t I never learn anything? 
Ain’t he played me tricks enough like that for me to 

2 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

be looking out for him by this time? But old fools 
is the biggest fools there is. Can’t learn an old dog 
new tricks, as the saying is. But my goodness, he 
never plays them alike, two days, and how is a body 
to know what’s coming? He ’pears to know just 
how long he can torment me before I get my dander 
up, and he knows if he can make out to put me off 
for a minute or make me laugh, it’s all down again 
and I can’t hit him a lick. I ain’t doing my duty 
,by that boy, and that’s the Lord’s truth, goodness 
knows. Spare the rod and spile the child, as the 
Good Book says. I’m a-laying up sin and suffering 
for us both, I know. He’s full of the Old Scratch, 
but laws-a-me! he’s my own dead sister’s boy, poor 
thing, and I ain’t got the heart to lash him, somehow. 
Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt 
me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most 
breaks. Well-a-well, man that is bom of woman 
is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture 
says, and I reckon it’s so. He’ll play hookey this 
evening,^ and I’ll just be obleeged to make him 
work, to-morrow, to punish him. It’s mighty hard 
to make him work Satiudays, when aU the boys is 
having holiday, but he hates work more than he 
hates anything else, and I’ve got to do some of my 
duty by him, or I’ll be the ruination of the child.” 

Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good 
time. He got back home barely in season to help 
Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day’s wood 
and split the kindlings before supper — ^at least he 
was there in time to tell his adventures to Jim while 
iSouthwestem for “afternoon.*? 

3 


MARK TWAIN 


Jim did three-fourtlis of the work. Tom’s younger 
brother (or rather, half-brother), Sid, was already 
through with his part of the work (picking up chips), 
for he was a quiet boy, and had no adventurous, 
troublesome ways. 

While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing 
sugar as opportunity offered. Aunt Polly asked him 
questions that were full of guile, and very deep — 
for she wanted to trap him into damaging reveal- 
ments. Like many other simple-hearted souls, it 
was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with 
a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she 
loved to contemplate her most transparent devices 
as marvels of low cunning. Said she: 

‘‘Torn, it was middling warm in school, wam’t 
it?” 

**Yes’m.” 

“Powerful warm, wam’t it?” 

“Yes’m.” 

“Didn’t you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?” 

A bit of a scare shot through Tom — a touch of 
uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Atuit Polly’s 
face, but it told him nothing. So he said: 

“No’m — ^well, not very much.” 

The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom’s 
shirt, and said: 

“But you ain’t too warm now, though.” And 
it flattered her to reflect that she had discovered 
that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing 
that that was what she had in her mind. But in 
spite of her, Tom knew where the wind lay, now, 
So he forestalled what might be the next move: 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


“Some of us pumped on our heads — amine’s damp 
yet. See?” 

Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had over- 
looked that bit of circumstantial evidence, and 
missed a trick. Then she had a new inspiration: 

“Tom, you didn’t have to undo your shirt-collar 
where I sewed it, to pump on your head, did you? 
Unbutton your jacket!” 

The trouble vanished out of Tom’s face. He 
opened his jacket. His shirt -collar was securely 
sewed. 

“Bother! Well, go ’long with you. I’d made 
sure you’d played hookey and been a-swimming. 
But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you’re a kind of 
a singed cat, as the saying is — ^better’n you look. 
This time.” 

She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, 
and half glad that Tom had stumbled into obedient' 
conduct for once. 

But Sidney said: 

“Well, now, if I didn’t think you sewed his collar 
with white thread, but it’s black.” 

“Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!” 

But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went 
out at the door he said : 

“Siddy, I’ll lick you for that.” 

In a safe place Tom examined two large needles 
which were thrust into the lapels of his jacket, and 
had thread boimd about them — one needle carried 
white thread and the other black. He said: 

“She’d never noticed if it hadn’t been for Sid. 
Confound it! sometimes she sews it with white, and 
5 


2 


MARK TWAIN 


sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to gee- 
min y she’d stick to one or t’other — I can’t keep 
the run of ’em. But I bet you I’ll lam Sid for that. 
I’ll learn him!” 

He was not the Model Boy of the village. He 
knew the model boy very well though — and loathed 
him. 

Within two minutes, or even less, he had for- 
gotten all his troubles. Not because his troubles 
were one whit less heavy and bitter to him than 
a man’s are to a man, but because a new and power- 
ful interest bore them down and drove them out of 
his mind for the time — ^just as men’s misforttmes 
are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. 
This new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, 
which he had just acquired from a negro, and he 
was suffering to practise it imdisturbed. It con- 
sisted in a peculiar birdlike turn, a sort of liquid 
warble, produced by touching the tongue to the 
roof of the mouth at short intervals in the midst of 
the music — the reader probably remembers how to 
do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and 
attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he 
strode down the street with his mouth full of har- 
mony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much 
as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new 
planet — ^no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed 
pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the 
boy, not the astronomer. 

The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, 
yet. Presently Tom checked his whistle. A stranger 
was before him — boy a shade larger than himself^ 
6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

A new-comer of any age or either sex was an im- 
pressive curiosity in the poor little shabby village of 
St. Petersburg. This boy was well dressed, too — 
well dressed on a week-day. This was simply as- 
tounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close- 
buttoned blue cloth roimdabout was new and natty, 
and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes on — • 
and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a 
bright bit of ribbon. He had a citified air about 
him that ate into Tom’s vitals. The more Tom 
stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned 
up his nose at his finery and the shabbier and shab- 
bier his own outfit seemed to him to grow. Neither 
boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved — ^but 
only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face 
and eye to eye all the time. Finally Tom said: 

‘T can lick you!” 

‘T’d like to see you try it.’* 

‘‘Well, I can do it.” 

“No you can’t, either.’* 

“Yes I can.” 

“No you can’t.” 

“I can.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Can!” 

“Can’t!” 

An imcomfortable pause. Then Tom said: 

“What’s your name?” 

“Tisn’t any of your business, maybe.” 

“Well I ’low I’ll make it my business.” 

“Well why don’t you?” 

“If you say much, I will.** 

9 


MARK TWAIN 


“Much — ^much — much. There now.“ 

“Oh, you think you’re mighty smart, donH you? 
I could lick you with one hand tied behind me, if I 
wanted to.” 

“Well why don’t you do it? You say you can 
do it.” 

“Well I willy if you fool with me.” 

“Oh yes — I’ve seen whole families in the same 
fix.” 

“Smarty! You think you’re somCy now, don*t 
you? Oh, what a hat!” 

“You can lump that hat if you don’t like it. I 
dare you to knock it off — and anybody that ’ll take 
a dare will suck eggs.” 

“You’re a liar!” 

“You’re another.” 

“You’re a fighting liar and dasn’t take it up.” 

“Aw — take a walk!” 

“Say — ^if you give me much more of your sas» 
I’ll take and bounce a rock off’n your head.” 

“Oh, of course you will.” 

“Well I will:* 

“Well why don’t you do it then? What do you 
keep saying you will for? Why don’t you do it? 
It’s because you’re afraid.” 

“I ain't afraid.” 

“You are.” 

“I ain’t.” 

“You are.” 

Another pause, and more eying and sidling around 
each other. Presently they were shoulder to shoulder. 
Tom said: 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘‘Get away from here!’* 

“Go away yourself!” 

“I won’t.” 

“J won’t either.” 

So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle 
as a brace, and both shoving with might and main, 
and glowering at each other with hate. But neither 
could get an advantage. After struggling till both 
were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with 
watchful caution, and Tom said: 

“You’re a coward and a pup. I’ll tell my big 
brother on you, and he can thrash you with his little 
finger, and I’ll make him do it, too.” 

“What do I care for your big brother? I’ve got 
a brother that’s bigger than he is — and what’s 
more, he can throw him over that fence, too.” 
[Both brothers were imaginary.] 

“That’s a lie.” 

**Your saying so don’t make it so.” 

Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and 
said: 

“I dare you to step over that, and I’ll lick you till 
you can’t stand up. Anybody that ’ll take a dare 
will steal sheep.” 

The new boy stepped over promptly, and said: 

‘ ‘ Now you said you’d do it, now let’s see you do it.” 

“Don’t you crowd me now; you better look out.” 

“Well, you said you’d do it — ^why don’t you do 
it?” 

“By jingo! for two cents I will do it.” 

The new boy took two broad coppers out of his 
pocket and held them out with derision. Tom 
9 


MARK TWAIN 


struck them to the ground. In an instant both 
boys were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped 
together like cats; and for the space of a minute 
they tugged and tore at each other’s hair and clothes, 
punched and scratched each other’s noses, and 
covered themselves with dust and glory. Presently 
the confusion took form and through the fog of 
battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, 
and pounding him with his fists. 

“Holler ’nuffi” said he. 

The boy only struggled to free himself. He was 
crying — ^mainly from rage. 

“Holler ’nuff!” — and the pounding went on. 

At last the stranger got out a smothered “’Nuffi” 
and Tom let him up and said : 

“Now that ’ll learn you. Better look out who 
you’re fooling with next time.” 

The new boy went off brushing the dust from his 
clothes, sobbing, snuffling, and occasionally looking 
back and shaking his head and threatening what he 
would do to Tom the “next time he caught him 
out.” To which Tom responded with jeers, and 
started off in high feather, and as soon as his back 
was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw 
it and hit him between the shoulders and then 
turned tail and ran like an antelope. Tom chased 
the traitor home, and thus fotmd out where he 
hved. He then held a position at the gate for some- 
time, daring the enemy to come outside, but the 
enemy only made faces at him through the window 
and declined. At last the enemy’s mother ap- 
peared, and called Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar childt 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

and ordered him away. So he went away, but he 
said he ‘‘lowed” to “lay” for that boy. 

He got home pretty late, that night, and when he 
climbed cautiously in at the window, he uncovered 
an ambuscade, in the person of his aimt; and when 
she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution 
to turn his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard 
labor became adamantine in its firmness. 


CHAPTER II 


S ATURDAY morning was come, and all the sum- 
mer world was bright and fresh, and brimming 
with life. There was a song in every heart; and if 
the heart was young the music issued at the lips. 
There was cheer in every face and a spring in every 
step. The locust trees were in bloom and the 
fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff 
Hill, beyond the village and above it, was green with 
vegetation, and it lay just far enough away to seem 
a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. 

Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of 
whitewash and a long-handled brush. He sinweyed 
the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep 
melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty 
yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to fiim 
seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sigh- 
ing he dipped his brush and passed it along the 
topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it 
again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak 
with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed 
fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim 
came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and 
singing “Buffalo Gals.’* Bringing water from the 
town pump had alwa^'s been hateful work in Tom’s 
eyes, before, but now it did not strike him so. He 


12 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

remembered that there was company at the pump. 
White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were al- 
ways there waiting their turns, resting, trading play- 
things, quarreling, fighting, skylarking. And he 
remembered that although the pump was only a 
himdred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with 
a bucket of water under an hour — and even then 
somebody generally had to go after him. Tom 
said: 

‘‘^ay, Jim, I’ll fetch the water if you’ll whitewash 
some.” 

Jim shook his head and said: 

‘‘Can’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I 
got to go an’ git dis water an’ not stop foolin’ roun’ 
wid anybody. She say she spec’ Mars Tom gwine 
to ax me to whitewash, an* so she tole me go ’long 
an* ’tend to my own business — ^she ’lowed she'd 
’tend to de whitewashin’.” 

“Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That’s 
the way she always talks. Gimme the bucket — I 
won’t be gone only a minute. She won’t ever 
know.” 

“Oh, I dasn’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis she’d take 
an’ tar de head off’n me. ’Deed she would.” 

''She! She never licks anybody — ^whacks ’em 
over the head with her thimble — and who cares for 
that, I’d like to know. She talks awful, but talk 
don’t hurt — anyways it don’t if she don’t cry. 
Jim, I’ll give you a marvel. I’ll give you a white 
alley!” 

Jim began to waver. 

“White alley, Jim! And it’s a bully taw.” 

13 


MARK TWAIN 

*'My! Dat’s a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! 
But Mars Tom I’s powerful ’fraid ole missis — ’’ 

‘‘And besides, if you will I’ll show you my sore 
toe.” 

Jim was only human — this attraction was too 
much for him. He put down his pail, took the 
white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing 
interest while the bandage was being unwound. In 
another moment he was flying down the street with 
his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was whitewashing 
with vigor, and Aimt PoUy was retiring from the 
field with a slipper in her hand and tritunph in her 
eye. 

But Tom’s energy did not last. He began to 
think of the fim he had planned for this day, and 
his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys would 
come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expedi- 
tions, and they would make a world of fun of him 
for having to work — ^the very thought of it biumt 
him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and 
examined it — ^bits of toys, marbles, and trash; 
enough to buy an exchange of work, maybe, but 
not half enough to buy so much as half an hour of 
pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means 
to his pocket, and gave up the idea of trying 
to buy the boys. At this dark and hopeless moment 
an inspiration burst upon him ! Nothing less than a 
great, magnificent inspiration. 

He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. 
Ben Rogers hove in sight presently — ^the very boy, 
of all boys, whose ridicule he had been dreading. 
Ben’s gait was the hop-skip-and-jump — ^proof enough 
14 


% 



TOM GAVE UP THE BRUSH 









ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


that his heart was light and his anticipations high. 
He was eating an apple, and giving a long, melodious 
whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned ding- 
dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a 
steamboat. As he drew near, he slackened speed, 
took the middle of the street, leaned far over to 
starboard and rounded to ponderously and with 
laborious pomp and circiunstance — ^for he was 
personating the Big Missouri, and considered him- 
self to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat 
and captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to 
imagine himself standing on his own hurricane-deck 
giving the orders and executing them: 

‘‘Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-lingr* The headway 
ran almost out and he drew up slowly toward the 
sidewalk. 

“Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!” His arms 
straightened and stiffened down his sides. 

“Set her back on the stabboard! Ting -a -ling- 
ling! Chow! ch -chow- wow J Chow!'’ His right 
hand, meantime, describing stately circles — ^for it 
was representing a forty-foot wheel. 

“Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-ling- 
ling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!” The left hand began 
to describe circles. 

‘ ‘ Stop the stabboard ! Ting-a-ling-ling ! Stop the 
labboard! Come ahead on the stabboard! Stop 
her! Let your outside turn over slow! Ting-a- 
ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! 
Lively now! Come — out with your spring-line — 
what ’re you about there ! Take a turn round that 
stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, 
IS 


MARK TWAIN 


now — ^let her go! Done with the engines, sir! 
Ting-a-ling-ling! Sh't! s'Kt! sh't!” (trying the gauge- 
cocks). . 

Tom went on whitewashing — ^paid no attention to 
the steamboat. Ben stared a moment and then said : 

You're up a stump, ain’t you!” 

No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the 
eye of an artist, then he gave his brush another 
gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as before. 
Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom’s mouth 
watered for the apple, but he stuck to his work. 
Ben said: 

“Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?” 

Tom wheeled suddenly and said : 

“Why, it’s you, Ben! I warn’t noticing.” 

* ‘ Say — Fm going in a-swimming, I am. Don’t you 
wish you could? But of course you’d druther work 
-—wouldn’t you? Course you would!” 

Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said : 

“What do you call work?” 

“WTiy, ain’t that work?” 

Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered 
carelessly: 

“Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain’t. All I 
know, is, it suits Tom Sawyer.” 

“Oh come, now, you don’t mean to let on that 
you like it?” 

The brush continued to move. 

“Like it? Well, I don’t see why I oughtn’t to 
like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a 
fence every day?” 

That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped 

i6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily 
back and forth — ^stepped back to note the effect — 
added a touch here and there — criticized the effect 
again — ^Ben watching every move and getting more 
and more interested, more and more absorbed. 
Presently he said: 

'‘Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little.*’ 

Tom considered, was about to consent; but he 
altered his mind : 

“No — ^no — I reckon it wouldn’t hardly do, Ben. 
You see. Aunt Polly’s awful particular about this 
fence — bright here on the street, you know — ^but if it 
was the back fence I wouldn’t mind and she wouldn’t. 
Yes, she’s awful particular about this fence; it’s 
got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain’t one 
boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do 
it the way it’s got to be done.” 

“No — ^is that so? Oh come, now — ^lemme just 
try. Only just a little — I’d let you, if you was me, 
Tom.” 

“Ben, I’d like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly 
— ^weU, Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn’t let 
him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn’t let Sid. 
Now don’t you see how I’m fixed? If you was to 
tackle this fence and anything was to happen to 
it — ” 

“Oh, shucks. I’ll be just as careful. Now lemme 
try. Say — I’ll give you the core of my apple.” 

“Well,here — No,Ben,now don’t. I’m afeard — ” 

“I’ll give you all of it!” 

Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, 
but alacrity in his heart. And while the late steamer 


MARK TWAIN 


Big Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, 
the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close 
by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned 
the slaughter of more innocents. There was no 
lack of material; boys happened along every little 
while; they came to jeer, but remained to white- 
wash. By the time Ben was fagged out, Tom 
had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a 
kite, in good repair; and when he played out, 
Johnny Miller bought in for a dead rat and a string 
to swing it with — and so on, and so on, hour after 
hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, 
from being a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morn- 
ing, Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He' had 
beside the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, 
part of a jews ’-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to 
look through, a spool cannon, a key that wouldn’t 
unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a glass stop- 
per of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, 
six firecrackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass 
door-knob, a dog-collar — ^but no dog — the handle 
of a knife, four pieces of orange-peel, and a dilapi* 
dated old window-sash. 

He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while — 
plenty of company — ^and the fence had three coats 
of whitewash on it! If he hadn’t rim out of white- 
wash, he would have bankrupted every boy in the 
village. 

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow 
world, after all. He had discovered a great law of 
human action, without knowing it — ^namely, that in 
order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is 

i8 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. 
If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like 
the writer of this book, he would now have compre- 
hended that Work consists of whatever a body is 
obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a 
body is not obliged to do. And this would help him 
to understand why constructing artificial flowers or 
performing on a treadmill is work, while rolling 
tenpins or climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. 
There are wealthy gentlemen in England who drive 
four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles 
on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege 
costs them considerable money; but if they were 
offered wages for the service, that would turn it into 
work and then they would resign. 

The boy mused awhile over the substantial change 
which had taken place in his worldly circumstances, 
and then wended toward headquarters to report. 


CHAPTER III 



'OM presented himself before Atmt Polly, who 


1 was sitting by an open window in a pleasant 
rearward apartment, which was bedroom, breakfast- 
room, dining-room, and library, combined. The 
balmy summer air, the restful quiet, the odor of the 
flowers, and the drowsing murmur of the bees had 
had their effect, and she was nodding over her knit- 
ting — ^for she had no company but the cat, and it 
was asleep in her lap. Her spectacles were propped 
up on her gray head for safety. She had thought 
that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she 
wondered at seeing him place himself in her power 
again in this intrepid way. He said: “Mayn’t I 
go and play now, aimt?” 

“What, a’ready? How much have you done?’* 

“It’s aU done, aunt.” 

“Tom, don’t lie to me — I can’t bear it.” 

“I ain’t, aunt; it is all done.” 

Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. 
She went out to see for herself ; and she would have 
been content to find twenty per cent, of Tom’s state- 
ment true. When she found the entire fence white- 
washed, and not only whitewashed but elaborately 
coated and recoated, and even a streak added to tho 
ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. 
She said: 


20 


ADVENTURES OF ^ TOM SAWYER 

‘‘Well, I never! There’s no getting round it, 
you can work when you’re a mind to, Tom.” And 
then she diluted the compliment by adding, “But 
it’s powerful seldom you’re a mind to, I’m botmd 
to say. Well, go ’long and play; but mind you 
get back some time in a week, or I’ll tan you.” 

She was so overcome by the splendor of his 
achievement that she took him into the closet and 
selected a choice apple and delivered it to him, 
along with an improving lecture upon the added 
value and flavor a treat took to itself when it came 
without sin through virtuous effort. And while she 
closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he “hooked” 
a doughnut. 

Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up 
the outside stairway that led to the back rooms on 
the second floor. Clods were handy and the air was 
full of them in a twinkling. They raged arotmd Sid 
like a hail-storm; and before Aimt Polly could 
collect her surprised facilities and sally to the rescue, 
six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and 
Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a 
gate, but as a general thing he was too crowded for 
time to make use of it. His soul was at peace, now 
that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to 
his black thread and getting him into trouble. 

Tom skirted the block, and came round into a 
muddy alley that led by the back of his aunt’s cow- 
stable. He presently got safely beyond the reach 
of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the 
public square of the village, where two “military” 
companies of boys had met for conflict, according 
3 21 


MARK TWAIN 


to previous appointment. Tom was General of one 
of these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General 
of the other. These two great commanders did not 
condescend to fight in person — that being better 
suited to the still smaller fry — ^but sat together on 
an eminence and conducted the field operations by 
orders delivered through aides-de-camp. Tom's 
army won a great victory, after a long and hard- 
fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prison- 
ers exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement 
agreed upon, and the day for the necessary battle 
appointed; after which the armies fell into line and 
marched away, and Tom turned homeward Malone. 

As he was passing by the house where Jeff 
Thatcher lived, he saw a new girl in the garden — 
a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair 
plaited into two long tails, white summer frock and 
embroidered pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero 
fell without firing a shot. A certain Amy Lawrence 
vanished out of his heart and left not even a memory 
of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to 
distraction, he had regarded his passion as adora- 
tion; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent 
partiality. He had been months winning her; she 
had confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the 
happiest and the proudest boy in the world only 
seven short days, and here in one instant of time she 
had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger 
whose visit is done. 

He worshiped this new angel with fiutive eye, till 
he saw that she had discovered him; then he pre- 
tended he did not know she was present, and began 
22 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

to “show off” in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, 
in order to win her admiration. He kept up this 
grotesque fooHshness for some time; but by and by, 
while he was in the midst of some dangerous gym- 
nastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that 
the little girl was wending her way toward the 
house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it, 
grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile 
longer. She halted a moment on the steps and 
then moved toward the door. Tom heaved a great 
sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his 
face lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over 
the fence a moment before she disappeared. 

The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or 
two of the flower, and then shaded his eyes with his 
hand and began to look down street as if he had 
discovered something of interest going on in that 
direction. Presently he picked up a straw and began 
trying to balance it on his nose, with his head tilted 
far back; and as he moved from side to side, in his 
efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the 
pansy; finally his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant 
toes closed upon it, and he hopped away with the 
treasure and disappeared rotmd the comer. But 
only for a minute — only while he could button the 
flower inside his jacket, next his heart — or next his 
stomach, possibly, for he was not much posted in 
anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. 

He retiuned, now, and htmg about the fence till 
nightfall, “showing off,” as before; but the girl 
never exhibited herself again, though Tom com- 
forted himself a little with the hope that she had 
23 


MARK TWAIN 


been near some window, meantime, and been aware 
of his attentions. Finally he rode home reluctantly, 
with his poor head full of visions. 

All through supper his spirits were so high that 
his aunt wondered ‘Vhat had got into the child.’* 
He took a good scolding about clodding Sid, and 
did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to 
steal sugar under his aunt’s very nose, and got his 
knuckles rapped for it. He said : 

“Aunt, you don’t whack Sid when he takes it.” 

“Well, Sid don’t torment a body the way you 
do. You’d be always into that sugar if I warn’t 
watching you.” 

Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, 
happy in his immunity, reached for the sugar- 
bowl — a sort of glorying over Tom which was well- 
nigh unbearable. But Sid’s fingers slipped and the 
bowl dropped and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. 
In such ecstasies that he even controlled his tongue 
and was silent. He said to himself that he would 
not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but 
wotdd sit perfectly still till she asked who did the 
mischief; and then he woiild tell, and there would 
be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet 
model “catch it.” He was so brim full of exulta- 
tion that he could hardly hold himself when the old 
lady came back and stood above the wreck dis- 
charging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. 
He said to himself, “Now it’s coming!” And the 
next instant he was sprawling on the floor! The 
potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom 
cried out : 


24 . 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Hold on, now, what ’er you belting me for? — 
Sid broke it !’' 

Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked 
for healing pity. But when she got her tongue 
again, she only said : 

“Umf! Well, you didn’t get a lick amiss, I 
reckon. You been into some other audacious mis- 
chief when I wasn’t aroimd, like enough.” 

Then her conscience reproached her, and she 
yearned to say something kind and loving; but she 
judged that this would be construed into a confes- 
sion that she had been in the wrong, and discipline 
forbade that. So she kept silence, and went about 
her affairs with a troubled heart. Tom sulked in a 
comer and exalted his woes. He knew that in her 
heart his atmt was on her knees to him, and he was 
morosely gratified by the consciousness of it. He 
would hang out no signals, he would take notice 
of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon 
him, now and then, through a film of tears, but he 
refused recognition of it. He pictured himself lying 
sick imto death and his aunt bending over him be- 
seeching one little forgiving word, but he would 
turn his face to the wall, and die with that word im- 
said. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pic- 
tured himself brought home from the river, dead, 
with his curls all wet, and his sore heart at rest. 
How she would throw herself upon him, and how 
her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God 
to give her back her boy and she would never, never 
abuse him any more! But he would lie there cold 
and white and make no sign — ^a poor little sufferer, 
25 


MARK TWAIN 


whose griefs were at an end. He so worked upon 
his feelings with the pathos of these dreams, that he 
had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke* 
and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which over- 
flowed when he winked, and ran down and trickled 
from the end of his nose. And such a luxury to 
him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could 
not bear to have any worldly cheeriness or an}^ 
grating delight intrude upon it; it was too sacred 
for such contact ; and so, presently, when his cousin 
Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing 
home again after an age-long visit of one week to 
the coimtry, he got up and moved in clouds and 
darkness out at one door as she brought song and 
sunshine in at the other. 

He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of 
boys, and sought desolate places that were in har- 
mony with his spirit. A log raft in the river invited 
him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and 
contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, 
wishing, the while, that he could only be drowned, 
all at once and imconsciously, without imdergoing 
the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then 
he thought of his flower. He got it out, rumpled 
and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismal 
felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she 
knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a 
right to put her arms around his neck and comfort 
him? Or would she turn coldly away like all the 
hollow world? This picture brought such an agony 
of pleasurable suffering that he worked it over and 
over again in his mind and set it up in new and 
26 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he 
rose up sighing and departed in the darkness. 

About half past nine or ten o’clock he came along 
the deserted street to where the Adored Unknown 
lived; he paused a moment; no sotmd fell upon his 
listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon 
the curtain of a second-story window. Was the 
sacred presence there? He climbed the fence, 
threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till 
he stood under that window; he looked ^p at it 
long, and with emotion; then he laid hii^ down on 
the groimd imder it, disposing himself upon his 
back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and 
holding his poor wilted flower. And thus he would 
die — out in the cold world, with no shelter over his 
homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the death- 
damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pity- 
ingly over him when the great agony came. And 
thus she would see him when she looked out upon 
the glad morning, and oh ! would she drop one little 
tear upon his poor, lifeless form, would she heave 
one little sigh to see a bright yoimg life so rudely 
blighted, so imtimely cut down? 

The window went up, a maid-servant’s discordant 
voice profaned the holy calm, and a deluge of water 
drenched the prone martyr’s remains! 

The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving 
snort. There was a whiz as of a missile in the air, 
mingled with the murmiu* of a curse, a soimd as of 
shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form 
went over the fence and shot away in the gloom. 

Not along after, as Tom, all imdressed for bed, 
27 


MARK TWAIN 


was surveying his drenched garments by the light of 
a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if he had any dim 
idea of making any “references to allusions,'* he 
thought better of it and held his peace, for there 
was danger in Tom's eye. 

Tom turned in without the added vexation of 
prayers, and Sid made mental note of the omission. 


CHAPTER IV 


T he sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed 
down upon the peaceful village like a benedic- 
tion. Breakfast over, Aimt Polly had family wor- 
ship: it began with a prayer built from the ground 
up of soHd courses of Scriptural quotations, welded 
together with a thin mortar of originality; and from 
the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter of 
the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. 

Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and 
went to work to “get his verses.’* Sid had learned 
his lesson days before. Tom bent all his energies to 
the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of 
the Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no 
verses that were shorter. At the end of half an 
hoiu" Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, 
but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole 
field of human thought, and his hands were busy 
with distracting recreations. Mary took his book to 
hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through 
the fog: 

“Blessed are the — a — a — ” 

“Poor—” 

“Yes — ^poor; blessed are the poor — a — a — ” 

“In spirit — ” 

“In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for 
they — they — ” 


25 


MARK TWAIN 


Theirs— '' 

“For theirs. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for 
theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they 
that monm, for they — they — 

“Sh— ’’ 

“For they — a — ** 

“S, H, A—’* 

“For they S, H — Oh, I don’t know what it is!’^ 
^^Shalir 

“Oh, shall! for they shall — ^for they shall — a 
r—si — shall mourn — a — a — ^blessed ^ are they that 
shall — they that — a — they that shall mourn, for 
they shall — a — shall whatf Why don’t you tel] me, 
Mary? — ^what do you want to be so mean for?” 

“Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I’m 
not teasing you. I wouldn’t do that. You must 
go and learn it again. Don’t you be discouraged, 
Tom, you’ll manage it — and if you do. I’ll give 
you something ever so nice. There, now, that’s a 
good boy.” 

“All right! What is it, Mary? teU me what it is.” 

“Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it’s 
nice, it is nice.” 

“You bet you that’s so, Mary. All right, I’ll 
tackle it again.” 

And he did “tackle it again” — and under the 
double pressure of curiosity and prospective gain, 
he did it with such spirit that he accomplished a 
shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new ‘ ‘ Bar- 
low” knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the 
convulsion of delight that swept his system shook 
him to his foimdations. True, the knife would not 
30 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

cut anything, but it was a “sure-enough” Barlow, 
and there was inconceivable grandeur in that — 
though where the Western boys ever got the idea 
that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited 
to its injury, is an imposing mystery and will always 
remain so, perhaps. Tom contrived to scarify the 
cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin on the 
bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday- 
school. 

Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of 
soap, and he went outside the door and set the basin 
on a little bench there; then he dipped the soap in 
the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; 
poured out the water on the ground, gently, and 
then entered the kitchen and began to wipe his face 
diligently on the towel behind the door. But Mary 
removed the towel and said: 

“Now ain’t you ashamed, Tom! You mustn’t 
be so bad. Water won’t hurt you.” 

Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was 
refilled, and this time he stood over it a little while, 
gathering resolution; took in a big breath and 
began. When he entered the kitchen presently, 
with both eyes shut and groping for the towel with 
his hands, an honorable testimony of suds and water 
was dripping from his face. But when he emerged 
from the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the 
clean territory stopped short at his chin and his 
jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line there 
was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread 
downward in front and backward around his neck. 
Mary took him in hand, and when she was done 

31 


MARK TWAIN 


with him he was a man and a brother, without dis- 
tinction of color, and his saturated hair was neatly 
brushed, and its short curls wrought into a dainty 
and symmetrical general effect. [He privately 
smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, 
and plastered his hair close down to his head; for 
he held curls to be effeminate, and his own filled his 
life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of 
his clothing that had been used only on Sundays 
during two years — they were simply called his 
“other clothes” — and so by that we know the size 
of his wardrobe. The girl “put him to rights” 
after he had dressed himself; she buttoned his neat 
roimdabout up to his chin, turned his vast shirt- 
collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and 
crowned him with his speckled straw hat. He now 
looked exceedingly improved and uncomfortable. 
He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for 
there was a restraint about whole clothes and clean- 
liness that galled him. He hoped that Mary would 
forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she 
coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the 
custom, and brought them out. He lost his temper 
and said he was always being made to do everything 
he didn’t want to do. But Mary said, persuasively: 

“Please, Tom — ^that’s a good boy.” 

So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon 
ready, and the three children set out for Sunday- 
school — a place that Tom hated with his whole 
heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it. 

Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half past 
ten; and then church service. Two of the children 
32 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

always remained for the sermon voluntarily, and the 
other always remained too — ^for stronger reasons. 
The church’s high-backed, uncushioned pews would 
seat about three hundred persons; the edifice was 
but a small, plain affair, with a sort of pine board 
tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door 
Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Stmday- 
dressed comrade: 

‘‘Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?” 

“Yes.” 

“What ’ll you take for her?” 

“What ’ll you give?” 

“Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook.” 

“Less see ’em.” 

Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the 
property changed hands. Then Tom traded a 
couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and 
some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. 
He waylaid other boys as they came, and went on 
buying tickets of various colors ten or fifteen minutes 
longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm 
of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his 
seat and started a quarrel with the first boy that 
came handy. The teacher, a grave, elderly man, 
interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom 
pulled a boy’s hair in the next bench, and was ab- 
sorbed in his book when the boy turned around; 
stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to 
hear him say “Ouch!” and got a new reprimand 
from his teacher. Tom’s whole class were of 
a pattern — ^restless, noisy, and troublesome. When 
they came to recite their lessons, not one of them 
33 


MARK TWAIN 

knew his verses perfectly, but had to be prompted 
all along. However, they worried through, and 
each got his reward — ^in small blue tickets, each 
with a passage of Scripture oti it ; each blue ticket was 
pay for two verses of the recitation. Ten blue 
tickets equaled a red one, and could be exchanged 
for it; ten red tickets equaled a yellow one; for ten 
yellow tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly 
bound Bible (worth forty cents in those easy ■^imes) 
to the pupil. How many of my readers would have 
the industry and application to memorize two thou- 
sand verses, even for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary 
had acquired two Bibles in this way — ^it was the 
patient work of two years — ^and a boy of German 
parentage had won foiu* or five. He once recited 
three thousand verses without stopping; but the 
strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and 
he was little better than an idiot from that day 
forth — a grievous misfortune for the school, for on 
great occasions, before company, the superintendent 
(as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy 
come out and “spread himself.’' Only the older 
pupils managed to keep their tickets and stick to 
their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and 
so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and 
noteworthy circumstance; the successful pupil was 
so great and conspicuous for that day that on the 
spot every scholar’s heart was fired with a fresh 
ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is 
possible that Tom’s mental stomach had never 
really hungered for one of those prizes, but un- 
questionably his entire being had for many a 
34 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

day longed for the glory and the- 6clat that came 
with it. 

In due course the superintendent stood up in 
front of the pulpit, with a closed hymn-book in his 
hand and his forefinger inserted between its leaves, 
and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school 
superintendent makes his customary little speech, a 
hymn-book in the hand is as necessary as is the 
inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer 
who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo 
at a concert — though why, is a mystery : for neither 
the hymn-book nor the sheet of music is ever re- 
ferred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was 
a slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee 
and short sandy hair; he wore a stiff standing- 
collar whose upper edge almost reached his ears 
and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the 
corners of his mouth — a fence that compelled a 
straight lookout ahead, and a turning of the whole 
body when a side view was required; his chin was 
propped on a spreading cravat which was as broad 
and as long as a bank-note, and had fringed ends; 
his boot-toes were turned sharply up, in the fashion 
of the day, like sleigh-runners — an effect patiently 
and laboriously produced by the yoimg men by 
sitting with their toes pressed against a wall for 
hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest of 
mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he 
held sacred things and places in such reverence, and 
so separated them from worldly matters, that un- 
consciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had 
acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly 
35 


MARK TWAIN 

absent on week-days. He began after this fash- 
ion: 

“Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as 
straight and pretty as you can and give me all your 
attention for a minute or two. There — that is it. 
That is the way good little boys and girls should do. 
I see one little girl who is looking out of the window 
— I am afraid she thinks I am out there some- 
where — ^perhaps up in one of the trees making a 
speech to the Httle birds. [Applausive titter.] I 
want to tell you how good it makes me feel to see 
so many bright, clean Httle faces assembled in a 
place like this, learning to do right and be good.’* 
And so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set 
down the rest of the oration. It was of a pattern 
which does not vary, and so it is familiar to us all. 
The latter third of the speech was marred by the 
resumption of fights and other recreations among 
certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings and 
whisperings that extended far and wide, washing 
even to the bases of isolated and incorruptible rocks 
like Sid and Mary. But now every sound ceased 
suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters’s voice, 
and the conclusion of the speech was received with 
a burst of silent gratitude. 

A good part of the whispering had been occa- 
sioned by an event which was more or less rare — 
the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accom- 
panied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, 
portly, middle-aged gentleman with iron-gray hair; 
and a dignified lady who was doubtless the latter’s 
wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had 
36 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

been restless and full of chafings and repinings ; con- 
science-smitten, too — ^he cotild not meet Amy 
Lawrence’s eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. 
But when he saw this small new-comer his soul was 
all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The next moment 
he was “showing off” with all his might — cuffing 
boys, pulling hair, making faces — in a word, using 
every art that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and 
win her applause. His exaltation had but one alloy 
— ^the memory of his humiliation in this angel’s garden 
— and that record in sand was fast washing out, under 
the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now. 

The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, 
and as soon as Mr. Walters’s speech was finished, he 
introduced them to the school. The middle-aged 
man turned out to be a prodigious personage — no 
less a one than the county judge — altogether the 
most august creation these children had ever looked 
upon — and they wondered what kind of material 
he was made of — and they half wanted to hear him 
roar, and were half afraid he might, too. He was 
from Constantinople, twelve miles away — so he had 
traveled, and seen the world — these very eyes had 
looked upon the county courthouse — which was 
said to have a tin roof. The awe which these reflec- 
tions inspired was attested by the impressive silence 
and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great 
Judge Thatcher, brother of their own lawyer. Jeff 
Thatcher immediately went forward, to be familiar 
with the great man and be envied by the school. It 
would have been music to his soul to hear the 
whisperings : 

4 


27 


MARK TWAIN 


“Look at him, Jim! He’s a-going up there. 
Say — look! he’s a-going to shake hands with him 
— ^he is shaking hands with him! By jings, don’t 
you wish you was Jeff?” 

Mr. Walters fell to “showing off,” wdth all sorts 
of official bustlings and activities, giving orders, 
delivering judgments, discharging directions here, 
there, everywhere that he could find a target. The 
Hbrarian “showed off” — ^nmning hither and thither 
with his arms full of books and making a deal of the 
splutter and fuss that insect authority delights in. 
The young lady teachers “showed off” — ^bending 
sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, 
lifting pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and 
patting good ones lovingly. The young gentlemen 
teachers “showed off” with small scoldings and 
other little displays of authority and fine attention 
to discipline — and most of the teachers, of both sexes, 
found business up at the library, by the pulpit; and 
it was business that frequently had to be done over 
again two or three times (with much seeming vexa- 
tion). The little girls “showed off ” in various ways, 
and the little boys “showed off” with such diligence 
that the air was thick with paper wads and the 
mtumur of scufflings. And above it all the great 
man sat and beamed a majestic judicial smile upon 
all the house, and warmed himself in the sun of his 
own grandeiu- — ^for he was “showdng off,” too. 

There was only one thing wanting, to make Mr. 
Walters’s ecstasy complete, and that was a chance to 
deliver a Bible prize and exhibit a prodigy. Several 
pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough 
38 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

— he had been around among the star pupils in- 
quiring. He would have given worlds, now, to have 
that German lad back again with a sound mind. 

And now at this moment, when hope was dead, 
Tom Sawyer came forward with nine yellow tickets, 
nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and demanded a 
Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. 
Walters was not expecting an application from this 
source for the next ten years. But there was no 
getting around it — ^here were the certified checks, 
and they were good for their face. Tom was there- 
fore elevated to a place with the Judge and the 
other elect, and the great news was announced from 
headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of 
the decade, and so profoimd was the sensation that 
it lifted the new hero up to the judicial one's alti- 
tude, and the school had two marvels to gaze upon 
in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with 
envy — ^but those that suffered the bitterest pangs 
were those who perceived too late that they them- 
selves had contributed to this hated splendor by 
trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed 
in selling whitewashing privileges. These despised 
themselves, as being the dupes of a wily fraud, a 
guileful snake in the grass. 

The prize was delivered to Tom with as much 
effusion as the superintendent could pump up imder 
the circumstances; but it lacked somewhat of the 
true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him 
that there was a mystery here that could not well 
bear the li^t, perhaps; it was simply preposterous 
that this boy had warehoused two thousand sheaves 
39 


MARK TWAIN 


of Scriptural wisdom on his premises — a. dozen 
would strain his capacity, without a doubt. 

Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried 
to make Tom see it in her face — ^but he wouldn’t 
look. She wondered; then she was just a grain 
troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went — ■ 
came again; she watched; a furtive glance told her 
worlds — and then her heart broke, and she was 
jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she 
hated everybody. Tom most of aU (she thought). 

Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue 
was tied, his breath would hardly come, his heart 
quaked — partly because of the awful greatness of 
the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He 
would have liked to fall down and worship him, if it 
were in the dark. The Judge put his hand on 
Tom’s head and called him a fine little man, and 
asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, 
gasped, and got it out : 

^‘Tom.” 

‘‘Oh, no, not Tom — ^it is — ” 

“Thomas.” 

“Ah, that’s it. I thought there was more to it, 
maybe. That’s very well. But you’ve another 
one I dare say, and you’ll tell it to me, won’t 
you?” 

“Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas,” 
said Walters, “and say sir. You mustn’t forget 
your manners.” 

“Thomas Sawyer — sir.” 

“That’s it! That’s a good boy. Fine boy. 
Fine, manly little fellow. Two thousand verses i 

4.0 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 


a great many — ^very, very great many. And you 
never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn 
them; for knowledge is worth more than anything 
there is in the world; it’s what makes great men 
and good men; you’ll be a great man and a good 
man yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you’ll 
look back and say. It’s all owing to the precious 
Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood — ^it’s all 
owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn 
— ^it’s all owing to the good superintendent, who 
encouraged me, and watched over me, and gave me 
a beautiful Bible — a splendid elegant Bible — ^to 
keep and have it all for my own, always — ^it’s all 
owing to right bringing up! That is what you will 
say, Thomas — and you wouldn’t take any money 
for those two thousand verses— no indeed you 
wouldn’t. And now you wouldn’t mind telling me 
and this lady some of the things you’ve learned — 
no, I know you wouldn’t — ^for we are proud of little 
boys that learn. Now, no doubt you know the 
names of all the twelve disciples. Won’t you 
tell us the names of the first two that were ap- 
pointed?” 

Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking 
sheepish. He blushed,, now, and his eyes fell. Mr. 
Walters’s heart sank within him. He said to himself, 
it is not possible that the boy can answer the sim- 
plest question — why did the Judge ask him? Yet 
he felt obliged to speak up and say: 

‘‘Answer the gentleman, Thomas — don’t be 
afraid.” 

Tom still himg fire. 


MARK TWAIN 


“Now I know you’ll tell said the lady. 

“The names of the first two disciples were — ” 
“David and Goliath!” 

Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of 
the scene. 


CHAPTER V 


ABOUT half past ten the cracked bell of the small 
church began to ring, and presently the people 
began to gather for the morning sermon. The 
Sunday-school children distributed themselves about 
the house and pccupied pews with their parents, so 
as to be under supervision. Atmt Polly came, and 
Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her — ^Tom being 
placed next the aisle, in order that he might be as 
far away from the open window and the seductive 
outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd filed 
up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who 
had seen better days; the mayor and his wife — ^for 
they had a mayor there, among other unnecessaries; 
the justice of the peace; the widow Douglas, fair, 
smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and 
well-to-do, her hill mansion the only palace in the 
town, and the most hospitable and much the most 
lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg 
could boast; the bent and venerable Major and 
Mrs. Ward; lawyer Riverson, the new notable from 
a distance; next the belle of the village, followed by 
a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young heart- 
breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a 
body — ^for they had stood in the vestibule sucking 
their cane-heads, a circhng wall of oiled and simper- 
ing admirers, till the last girl had nm their gantlet; 

43 


MARK TWAIN 


and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mtiffer- 
son, taking as heedful care of his mother as if she 
were cut glass. He always brought his mother to 
church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The 
boys all hated him, he was so good. And besides, 
he had been “thrown up to them” so much. His 
white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket 
behind, as usual on Simdays — accidentally. Tom 
had no handkerchief, and he looked upon boys who 
had, as snobs. 

The congregation being fully assembled, now, the 
bell rang once more, to warn laggards and stragglers, 
and then a solemn hush fell upon the chtu*ch which 
was only broken by the tittering and whispering of 
the choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered 
and whispered all through service. There was once 
a church choir that was not ill-bred, but I have for- 
gotten where it was, now. It was a great many 
years ago, and I can scarcely remember anything 
about it, but I think it was in some foreign country. 

The minister gave out the hymn, and read it 
through with a relish, in a peculiar style which was 
much admired in that part of {he. country. His 
voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily 
up till it reached a certain point, where it bore with 
strong emphasis upon the topmost word and thee 
plimged down as if from a spring-board: 

Shatt I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow’ry beds 

of ease, 

VhUst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro’ blood- ^ 

' y seast 


44 


ADVENTURES CF TOM SAWYER' 

He was regarded as a wo.'derful reader. At church 
‘‘sociables’* he was alw ys called upon to read 
poetry; and when he was through, the ladies would 
lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their 
laps, and “wall” their eyes, and shake their heads, 
as much as to say, “Words cannot express it; it is 
too beautiful, too beautiful for this mortal earth.” 

After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. 
Sprague turned himself into a bulletin-board, and 
read off “notices” of meetings and societies and 
things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to 
the crack of doom — a queer custom which is still 
kept up in America, even in cities, away here in this 
age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there 
is to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to 
get rid of it. 

And now the minister prayed. A good, generous 
prayer it was, and went into details: it pleaded for 
the chiuch, and the little children of the chiuch; for 
the other churches of the village; for the village 
itself; for the county; for the state; for the state 
officers; for the United States; for the churches of 
the United States; for Congress; for the President; 
for the officers of the government; for poor sailors, 
tossed by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions 
groaning under the heel of European monarchies 
and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light 
and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see 
nor ears to hear withal; for the heathen in the far 
islands of the sea; and closed with a supplication 
that the words he was about to speak might find 
grace and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile 
45 


MARK TWAIN 

ground, yielding in time f grateful harvest of good. 
Amen. 

There was a rustling o . dresses, and the standing 
congregation sat down. The boy whose history this 
book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he only en- 
dured it — ^if he even did that much. He was restive 
all through it; he kept tally of the details of the 
prayer, unconsciously — ^for he was not listening, but 
he knew the ground of old, and the clergyman’s 
regular route over it — and when a little trifle of 
new matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and 
his whole natme resented it ; he considered additions 
unfair, and scoundrelly. In the midst of the prayer 
a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of him 
and tortmed his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands 
together, embracing its head with its arms, and 
polishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost 
part company with the body, and the slender thread 
of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings 
with its hind legs and smoothing them to its body 
as if they had been coat-tails; gomg through its 
whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was per- 
fectly safe. As indeed it was ; for as sorely as Tom’s 
hands itched to grab for it. they did not dare — ^he 
believed his soul would be instantly destroyed if he 
did such a thing while the prayer was going on. 
But with the closing sentence his hand began to 
curve and steal forward ; and the instant the “ Amen ” 
was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt 
detected the act and made him let it go. 

The minister gave out his text and droned along 
monotonously through an argument that was so 

d6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


prosy that many a head by and by began to nod — 
and yet it was an argtiment that dealt in limitless 
fire and brimstone and thinned the predestined 
elect down to a company so small as to be hardly 
worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the 
sermon; after church he always knew how many 
pages there had been, but he seldom knew anything 
else about the discourse. However, this time he was 
really interested for a little while. The minister 
made a grand and moving picture of the assembling 
together of the world’s hosts at the millennium 
when the lion and the lamb should lie down together 
and a little child should lead them. But the pathos, 
the lesson, the moral of the great spectacle were 
lost upon the boy; he only thought of the con- 
spicuousness of the principal character before the 
onlooking nations; his face lit with the thought, 
and he said to himself that he wished he could be 
that child, if it was a tame lion. 

Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry 
argument was resumed. Presently he bethought 
him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was a 
large black beetle with formidable jaws — a ‘"pinch- 
bug,” he called it. It was in a percussion-cap box. 
The first thing the beetle did was to take him by 
the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle w^t 
floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the 
hurt finger went into the boy’s mouth. The beetle 
lay there working its helpless legs, unable to turn 
over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was 
safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in 
the sermon, foimd relief in the beetle, and they eyed 
47 


MARK TWAIN 


it too. Presently a vagrant poodle-dog came idling 
along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness 
and the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. 
He spied the beetle; the drooping tail lifted and 
wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked aroimd it; 
smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it 
again; grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then 
lifted his lip and made a gingerly snatch at it, just 
missing it; made another, and another; began to 
enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with 
the beetle between his paws, and continued his 
experiments ; grew weary at last, and then indifferent 
and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little by 
little his chin descended and touched the enemy, 
who seized it. There was a sharp yelp, a flirt of 
the poodle’s head, and the beetle fell a couple of 
yards away, and lit on its back once more. The 
neighboring spectators shook with a gentle inward 
joy, several faces went behind fans and handker- 
chiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog 
looked foohsh, and probably felt so; but there was 
resentment in his heart, too, and a craving for 
revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a 
wary attack on it again; jumping at it from ever>' 
point of a circle, lighting with his fore paws within 
an inch of the creatiire, making even closer snatches 
at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his 
ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, 
after a while; tried to amuse himself with a fly but 
found no relief; followed an ant aroimd, with his 
nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that; 
yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat 
48 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

down on it. Then there was a wild yelp of agony 
and the poodle went sailing up the aisle; the yelps 
continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house 
in front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; 
he crossed before the doors; he clamored up the 
home-stretch; his anguish grew with his progress, 
till presently he was but a woolly comet moving 
in its orbit with the gleam and the speed of light. 
At last the frantic sufferer sheered from its course, 
and sprang into its master’s lap; he flung it out 
of the window, and the voice of distress quickly 
thinned away and died in the distance. 

By this time the whole church was red-faced and 
suffocating with suppressed laughter, and the sermon 
had come to a dead standstill. The discomse was 
resinned presently, but it went lame and halting, all 
possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even 
the gravest sentiments were constantly being received 
with a smothered burst of unholy mirth, under cover 
of some remote pew-back, as if the poor parson had 
said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief 
to the whole congregation when the ordeal was over 
and the benediction pronounced. 

Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking 
to himself that there was some satisfaction about 
divine service when there was a bit of variety in it. 
He had but one marring thought; he was willing 
that the dog should play with his pinchbug, but he 
did not think it was upright in him to carry it off. 


CHAPTER VI 


T\ If ONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable, 
i V 1 Monday morning always found him so — ^be- 
cause it began another week’s slow suffering in 
school. He generally began that day with wishing 
he had had no intervening holiday, it made the going 
into captivity and fetters again so much more odious. 

Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him 
that he wished he was sick; then he could stay 
home from school. Here was a vague possibility. 
He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, 
and he investigated again. Tliis time he thought he 
could detect colicky symptoms, and he began to en- 
courage them with considerable hope. But they 
soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. 
He reflected further. Suddenly he discovered some- 
thing. One of his upper front teeth was loose. 
This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as 
a ‘‘starter,” as he called it, when it occurred to 
him that if he came into court with that argument, 
his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So 
he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for 
the present, and seek fiu-ther. Nothing offered for 
some little time, and then he remembered hearing the 
doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a 
patient for two or three weeks and threatened to 

50 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


make him lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his 
sore toe from tmder the sheet and held it up for 
inspection. But now he did not know the necessary 
symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to 
chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerable 
spirit. 

But Sid slept on imconscious. 

Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began 
to feel pain in the toe. 

No result from Sid. 

Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. 
He took a rest and then swelled himself up and 
fetched a succession of admirable groans. 

Sid snored on. 

Tom was aggravated. He said, ‘'Sid, Sid!** 
and shook him. This course worked well, and Tom 
began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then 
brought himself up on his elbow vith a snort, and 
began to stare at Tom. Tom went on groaning. 
Sid said : 

“Tom! Say, Tom!**' [No response.] “Here, 
Tom! Tom! What is the matter, Tom?** And 
lie shook him and looked in his face anxiously. * 

Tom moaned out: 

“Oh, don*t, Sid. Don*t joggle me.** 

“ Why, what*s the matter, Tom? Imust callauntie.** 

“No — ^never mind. It *11 be over by and by, 
maybe. Don*t call anybody.’* 

“But I must! Don't groan so, Tom, it’s awful. 
How long you been this way?’’ 

“Hours. Ouch! Oh, don’t .stir so, Sid, you’ll 
^dU me.” 


MARK TWAIN 


“Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, 
Tom, don't! It makes my flesh crawl to hear you. 
Tom, what is the matter?” 

“I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Every- 
thing you've ever done to me. When I’m gone — ” 

“Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, 
Tom — oh, don’t. Maybe — ” 

“I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell ’em 
so, Sid. And Sid, you give my window-sash and 
my cat with one eye to that new girl that’s come to 
town, and teU her — '' 

But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom 
wasVsuffering in reality, now, so handsomely was his 
imagination working, and so his groans had gathered 
quite a genuine tone. 

Sid flew down-stairs and said: 

“Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!” 

“Dying!” 

“Yes'm. Don’t wait — come quick!” 

“Rubbage! I don’t believe it!” 

But she fled up-stairs, nevertheless, with Sid and 
Mary at her heels. And her face grew white, too, 
and her lip trembled. When she reached the bed- 
side she gasped out: 

“You, Tom’ Tom, what's the matter with you?” 

“Oh, auntie, I’m — ” 

“What's the matter with you — what is the matter 
with you, child?” 

“Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!” 

The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed 
a little, then cried a little, then did both together. 
This restored her and she said: 

iS2 


ADVENTU ^ .S OF TOM SAWYER 

turn you did give me. Now you 
fihut'up that nonsense and climb out of this.” 

The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the 
toe. The boy felt a Httle foolish, and he said: 

“-Aunt Polly, it seemed mortified, and it hurt so I 
never minded my tooth at all.” 

“Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with 
your tooth?” 

“One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly 
awful.” 

“There, there, now, don't begin that groaning 
again. Open your mouth. Well — ^>^our tooth is 
loose, but you're not going to die about that. Mary, 
get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the 
kitchen.” 

Tom said: 

“Oh, please auntie, don't pull it out. It don’t 
hurt any more. I wish I may never stir if it does, 
Please don't, auntie. / don’t want to stay home 
from school.” 

“Oh, you don’t, don’t you? So all this row was 
because you thought you’d get to stay home from 
school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love you 
so, and you seem to try every way yoii can to break 
my old heart with your outrageousness.” By this 
time the dental instruments were ready. The old 
lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's 
tooth with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. 
Then she seized the chunk of fire and suddenly 
thrust it almost into the boy's face. The tooth 
hung dangling by the bedpost, now. 

But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom 

5 S3 


MARK TWAIN 


wended to school after breakfast, he was the envy of 
every boy he met because the gap in his upper row 
of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and 
admirable way. He gathered quite a following of 
lads interested in the exhibition; and one that had 
cut his finger and had been a center of fascination 
and homage up to this time, now foimd himself sud- 
denly without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. 
His heart was heavy, and he said with a disdain 
which he did not feel, that it wasn’t anything to spit 
like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said ‘‘Sour 
grapes!” and he wandered away a dismantled 
hero. 

Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of 
the village. Huckleberry Finn, son of the town 
dnmkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and 
dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he 
was idle and lawless and vulgar and bad — and 
because all their children admired him so, and de- 
lighted in his forbidden society, and wished they 
dared to be like him. Tom was like the rest of the 
respectable boys, in that he envied Huckleberry his 
gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders 
not to play with him. So he played with him every 
time he got a chance. Huckleberry was always 
dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown men, 
and they were m perennial bloom and fluttering with 
rags. His hat was a vast ruin with a wide crescent 
lopped out of its brim; his coat, when he wore one, 
himg nearly to his heels and had the rearward but- 
tons far down the back; but one suspender sup- 
ported his trousers; the seat of the trousers bagged 
54 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

low and contained nothing; the fringed legs dragged 
in the dirt when not rolled up. 

Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. 
He slept on doorsteps in fine weather and in empty 
hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to school 
or to church, or call any being master or obey any- 
body; he could go fishing or swimming when and 
where he chose, and stay as long as it suited him; 
nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as 
late as he pleased; he was always the first boy 
that went barefoot in the spring and the last to 
resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, 
nor put on clean clothes; he could swear wonder- 
fully. In a word, everything that goes to make 
life precious, that boy had. So thought every har- 
assed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Peters- 
burg. 

Tom hailed the romantic outcast: 

‘ ‘ Hello, Huckleberry !' * 

‘■‘Hello yourself, and see how you like it.” 

“What’s that you got?” 

“Dead cat.” 

“Lemme see him, Huck. My, he’s pretty stiff. 
Where’d you get him?” 

“Bought him off’n a boy.” 

“What did you give?” 

“I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at 
the slaughter-house.’^ 

“Where’d you get the blue ticket?” 

“Bought it off’n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a 
hoop-stick.” 

“Say — ^what is dead cats good for, Huck?” 

55 


MARK TWAIN 


“Good for? Cure warts with.** 

“No! Is that so? I know something that’s 
better.*’ 

“I bet you don’t. What is it?” 

“Why, spunk-water.” 

* * Spunk-water 1 I wotddn’t give a dem for spunk- 
water.” 

“You wouldn’t, wouldn’t you? D’you ever try 
it?” 

“No, I hain’t. But Bob Tanner did.” 

“Who told you so?” 

“Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny 
Baker, and Johnny told Jim Hollis, and Jim told 
Ben Rogers, and Ben told a^igger, and the nigger 
told me. There now!” 

“Well, what of it? They’ll all lie. Leastways 
all but the nigger. I don’t know him. But I never 
see a nigger that wouldn't lie. Shucks! Now you 
tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck.” 

“Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten 
stump where the rain-water was.” 

“In the daytime?” 

“Certainly.” 

“With his face to the stump?” 

“Yes. Least I reckon so.” 

“Did he say anything?” 

“I don’t reckon he did. I don’t know.” 

“Aha I Talk about trying to cture warts with 
spunk- water such a blame-fool way as that! Why, 
that ain’t a-going to do any good. You got to go 
all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where 
you know there’s a spunk-water stump, and just as 
56 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

it’s midnight you back up against the stump and 
jam your hand in and say: 

‘Barley-corn, Barley-corn, injim-meal shorts. 
Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts,’ 

and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your 
eyes shut, and then turn around three times and 
walk home without speaking to anybody. Because 
if you speak the charm’s busted.” 

“Well, that soimds like a good way; but that 
ain’t the way Bob Tanner done.” 

“No, sir, you can bet he didn’t, becuz he’s the 
wartiest boy in this town; and he wouldn’t have a 
wart on him if he’d knowed how to work spunk- 
water. I’ve took off thousands of warts off of my 
hands that way, Huck. I play with frogs so much 
that I’ve always got considerable many warts. 
Sometimes I take ’em off with a bean.” 

“Yes, bean’s good. I’ve done that.” 

“Have you? What’s your way?” 

“You take and split the bean, and cut the wart 
so as to get some blood, and then you put the blood 
on one piece of the bean and take and dig a hole 
and bury it ’bout midnight at the crossroads in the 
dark of the moon, and then you bum up the rest 
of the bean. You see that piece that’s got the blood 
on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to 
fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the 
blood to draw the wart, and pretty soon off she 
comes.” 

“Yes, that’s it, Huck — ^that’s it; though when 
you’re bur3dng it if you say ‘Down bean; off wart; 

57 


MARK TWAIN 


come no more to bother me!’ it’s better. That’s 
the way Joe Harper does, and he’s been nearly to 
Coonville and most everywheres. But say — ^how 
do you cure ’em with dead cats?” 

“Why, you take yotu* cat and go and get in the 
graveyard ’long about midnight when somebody 
that was wicked has been buried; and when it’s 
midnight a devd will come, or maybe two or three, 
but you can’t see ’em, you can only hear something 
like the wind, or maybe hear ’em talk; and when 
they’re taking that feller away, you heave yotu* cat 
after ’em and say, ‘Devil follow corpse, cat follow 
devil, warts follow cat. I’m done with ye 1 ’ That ’ll 
fetch any wart.” 

“Soimds right. D’you ever try it, Huck?” 

“No, but old Mother Hopkins told me.” 

“Well, I reckon it’s so, then. Becuz they say 
she’s a witch.” 

“Say! Why, Tom, I know she is. She witched 
pap. Pap says so his own self. He come along 
one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so he 
took up a rock, and if she hadn’t dodged, he’d ’a’ 
got her. Well, that very night he rolled off’n a shed 
wher’ he was a-layin’ drunk, and broke his arm.” 

“WThy, that’s awful. How did he know she was 
a-witching him?” 

“Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they 
keep looking at you right stiddy, they’re a-witching 
you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz when they 
mumble they’re saying the Lord’s Prayer back- 
ards.” 

“Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?” 
c8 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

To-night. I reckon they’ll come after old Hoss 
Williams to-night.” 

“But they buried him Saturday. Didn’t they get 
him Saturday night?” 

“Why, how you talk! How could their charms 
work till midnight? — ^and then it’s Svmday. Devils 
don’t slosh aroimd much of a Simday, I don’t 
reckon.” 

“I never thought of that. That’s so. Lemme 
go with you?” 

“Of course — if you ain’t afeard.” 

“Afeardl ’Tain’t likely. Will you meow?” 

“Yes — and you meow back, if you get a chance. 
Last time, you kep* me a-meowing aroimd till old 
Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says 'Dem 
that cat 1’ and so I hove a brick through his window 
— but don’t you tell.” 

“I won’t. I couldn’t meow that night, becuz 
auntie was watching me, but I’ll meow this time. 
Say — ^what’s that?” 

“Nothing but a tick.” 

“WThere’d you get him?” 

“Out in the woods.” 

“What ’ll you take for him?” 

“I (k'n’t know. I don’t want to sell him.” 

“All right. It’s a mighty small tick, anyway.” 

“Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don’t 
belong to them. I’m satisfied with it. It’s a good 
enough tick for me.” 

“Sho, there’s ticks a-plenty. I could have a 
thousand of ’em if I wanted to.” 

“Well, why don’t you? Becuz you know mighty 
59 


MARK TWAIN 


well you can’t. This is a pretty early tick, I reckon. 
It’s the first one I’ve seen this year.” 

“Say, Huck— I’ll give you my tooth for him.” 

“Less see it.” 

Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully imrolled 
it. Huckleberry viewed it wistfully. The tempta- 
tion was very strong. At last he said: 

“Is it genuwyne?” 

Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy. 

“Well, all right,” said Huckleberry, “it’s a 
trade.” 

Tom inclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box 
that had lately been the pinchbug’s prison, and the 
boys separated, each feehng wealthier than before. 

When Tom reached the little isolated frame 
schoolhouse, he strode in briskly, with the manner 
of one who had come with, all honest speed. He 
himg his hat on a peg and flimg himself into his seat 
with businesslike alacrity. The master, throned on 
high in his great splint-bottom arm-chair, was 
dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. The 
interruption roused him. 

“Thomas Sawyer!” 

Tom knew that when his name was pronotmced in 
fuU, it meant trouble. 

“Sir!” 

“Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late 
again, as usual?” 

Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he 
saw two long tails of yellow hair hanging down a 
back that he recognized by the electric sympathy of 
love; and by that form was the only vacant place on 
6o 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

the girls’ side of the schoolhouse. He instantly 
said: 

‘T STOPPED TO TALK WITH HuCKLEBERRY FiNn!” 
The master’s pulse stood still, and he stared help- 
lessly. The buzz of study ceased. The pupils 
wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his mind., 
The master said: 

“You — ^you did what?” 

“Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn.” 

There was no mistaking the words. 

“Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding 
confession I have ever listened to. No mere ferule 
will answer for this offense. Take off your jacket.’* 

The master’s arm performed until it was tired and 
the stock of switches notably diminished. Then the 
order followed: 

“Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let 
this be a warning to you.” 

The titter that rippled arotmd the room appeared 
to abash the boy, but in reality that result was caused 
rather more by his worshipful awe of his tmknown 
idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high 
good fortime. He sat down upon the end of the 
pine bench and the girl hitched herself away from 
him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks 
and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, 
with his arms upon the long, low desk before him, 
and seemed to study his book. 

By and by attention ceased from him, and the 
accustomed school murmur rose upon the dull air 
once more. Presently the boy began to steal furtive 
glances at the girl. She observed it, “made a 

6i 


MARK TWAIN 


mouth’* at him and gave him the back of her head 
for the space of a minute. When she cautiously 
faced around again, a peach lay before her. She 
thrust it away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust 
it away again, but with less animosity. Tom 
patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it 
remain, Tom scrawled on his slate, ‘‘Please take 
it — I got more.” The girl glanced at the words, 
but made no sign. Now the boy began to draw 
something on the slate, hiding his work with his left 
hand. For a time the girl refused to notice; but 
her human curiosity presently began to manifest 
itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked 
on, apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort 
of non-committal attempt to see it, but the boy did 
not. betray that he was aware of it. At last she 
gave in and hesitatingly whispered: 

“Let me see it.” 

Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a 
house with two gable ends to it and a corkscrew of 
smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the girl’s 
interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she 
forgot everything else. When it was finished, she 
gazed a moment, then whispered: 

“It’s nice — ^make a man.” 

The artist erected a man in the front yard, that 
resembled a derrick. He could have stepped over 
the house; but the girl was not hypercritical; die 
was satisfied with the monster, and whispered : 

“It’s a beautiful man — ^now make me coming 
along.” 

Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and 
62 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


straw limbs to it and armed the spreading fingers 
with a portentous fan. The girl said: 

“It’s ever so nice — I wish I could draw.” 

“It’s easy,” whispered Tom, “I’ll learn you.” 

“Oh, will you? When?” 

“At noon. Do you go home to dinner?” 

“I’ll stay if you will.” 

“Good — that’s a whack. What’s your name?” 

“Becky Thatcher. What’s yours? Oh, I know. 
It’s Thomas Sawyer.” 

“That’s the name they lick me by. I’m Tom 
when I’m good. You call me Tom, will you?” 

“Yes.” 

Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, 
hiding the words from the girl. But she was not 
backward this time. She begged to see. Tom said: 

“Oh, it ain’t anything.” 

“Yes it is.” 

“No it ain’t. You don’t want to see.” 

“Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me.” 

“You’ll tell.” 

“No I won’t — deed and deed and double deed I 
won’t.” 

“You won’t tell anybody at all? Ever, as long 
as you live?” 

“No, I won’t ever tell anybody. Now let me.” 

“Oh, you don’t want to see!” 

“Now 'that you treat me so, I will see.” And 
she put her small hand upon his and a little scuffle 
ensued, Tom pretending to resist in earnest but let- 
ting his hand slip by degrees till these words were 
^revealed: “/ love you."' 


63 


MARK TWAIN 


‘‘Oh, you bad thing!’’ And she hit his hand a 
smart rap, but reddened and looked pleased, never- 
theless. 

Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful 
grip closing on his ear, and a steady lifting impulse. 
In that vise he was borne across the house and de- 
posited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of 
giggles from the whole school. Then the master 
stood over him during a few awful moments, and 
finally moved away to his throne without saying a 
word. But although Tom’s ear tingled, his heart 
was jubilant. 

As the school quieted down Tom made an honest 
effort to study, but the turmoil within him was too 
great. In turn he took his place in the reading 
class and made a botch of it ; then in the geography 
class and turned lakes into mountains, moimtains 
into rivers, and rivers into continents, till chaos was 
come again; then in the spelling class, and got 
“tiuTied down,” by a succession of mere baby words, 
till he brought up at the foot and yielded up the 
pewter medal which he had worn with ostentation 
for months. 


CHAPTER VII 


T he harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his 
book, the more his ideas wandered. So at 
last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It 
seemed to him that the noon recess would never 
come. The air was utterly dead. There was not a 
breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of sleepy days. 
The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty study- 
ing scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is 
in the murmur of bees. Away off in the flaming 
sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green sides 
through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the 
purple of distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing 
high in the air; no other living thing was visible but 
some cows, and they were asleep. Tom’s heart 
ached to be free, or else to have something of inter- 
est to do to pass the dreary time. His hand wan- 
dered into his pocket and his face lit up with a 
glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not 
know it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box 
came out. He released the tick and put him on the 
long flat desk. The creature probably glowed with 
a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this 
moment, but it was premature : for when he started 
thankfully to travel off, Tom turned him aside with 
a pin and made him take a new direction. 

65 


MARK TWAIN 

Tom’s bosom friend sat next him, suffering just 
as Tom had been, and now he was deeply and grate- 
fully interested in this entertainment in an instant. 
This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys 
were sworn friends all the week, and embattled 
enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a pin out of his 
lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. 
The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom 
said that they were interfering with each other, and 
neither getting the fullest benefit of the tick. So he 
put Joe’s slate on the desk and drew a line down the 
middle of it from top to bottom. 

‘"Now,” said he, ‘‘as long as he is on your side 
you can stir him up and I’ll let him alone; but if 
you let him get away and get on my side, you’re to 
leave him alone as long as I can keep him from 
crossing over.” 

“All right, go ahead; start him up.” 

The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed 
the equator. Joe harassed him awhile, and then he 
got away and crossed back again. This change of 
base occurred often. While one boy was worrying 
the tick with absorbing interest, the other would 
look on with interest as strong, the two heads bowed 
together over the slate, and the two souls dead to all 
things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide 
with Joe. The tick tried this, that, and the other 
course, and got as excited and as anxious as the boys 
themselves, but time and again just as he would 
have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom’s 
fingers would be twitching to begin, Joe’s pin would 
deftly head him off, and keep possession. At last 
66 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was 
too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with 
his pin. Joe was angry in a moment. Said he: 

'‘Tom, you let him alone.” 

“I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe.” 

“No, sir, it ain’t fair; you just let him alone.” 

“Blame it, I ain’t going to stir him much.” 

“Let him alone, I tell you.” 

“I won’t!” 

“You shall — ^he’s on my side of the line.” 

“Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?’' 

“I don’t care whose tick he is — ^he’s on my side 
of the line, and you sha’n’t touch him.” 

“Well, I’ll just bet I wiU, though. He’s my tick 
and I’ll do what I blame please with him, or die!” 

A tremendous whack came down on Tom’s shoul- 
ders, and its duplicate on Joe’s; and for the space 
of two minutes the dust continued to fly from the 
two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The 
boys had been too absorbed to notice the hush that 
had stolen upon the school awhile before when the 
master came tiptoeing down the room and stood 
over them. He had contemplated a good part of 
the performance before he contributed his bit of 
variety to it. 

When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to 
Becky Thatcher, and whispered in her ear: 

“Put on your bonnet and let on you’re going 
home; and when you get to the comer, give the 
rest of ’em the slip, and turn down through the lane 
and come back. I’ll go the other way and come, 
it over ’em the same way.” 

^7 


MARK TWAIN 

So the one went off with one group of scholars, 
and the other with another. In a little while the 
two met at the bottom of the lane, and when they 
reached the school they had it all to themselves. 
Then they sat together, with a slate before them, 
and Tom gave Becky the pencil and held her hand 
in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising 
house. When the interest in art began to wane, 
the two fell to talking. Tom was swimming in bliss. 
He said: 

'‘Do you love rats?’' 

“No! I hate them!” 

“Well, I do, too — live ones. But I mean dead 
ones, to swing round your head with a string.” 

“No, I don’t care for rats much, anyway. What 
I like is chewing-gum.” 

“Oh, I should say so. I wish I had some now.” 

“Do you? I’ve got some. I’ll let you chew it 
awhile, but you must give it back to me.” 

That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, 
and dangled their legs against the bench in excess 
of contentment. 

“Was you ever at a circus?” said Tom. 

“Yes, and my pa’s going to take me again some 
time, if I’m good.” 

“I been to the circus three or four times — lots of 
times. Church ain’t shucks to a circus. There’s 
things going on at a circus all the time. I’m going 
to be a clown in a circus when I grow up.” 

“Oh, are you! That will be nice. They’re so 
lovely, all spotted up.” 

“Yes, that’s so. And they get slathers of money 
63 


ADVENTURES OF TOM/ SAWYER 

— most a dollar a day, Ben Rogers says. Say, 
Becky, was you ever engaged?'* 

What's that?" 

“Why, engaged to be married." 

“No." 

“Would you like to?" 

“I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?" 

“Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only 
just tell a boy you won't ever have anybody but 
him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's 
all. Anybody can do it." 

“Kiss? What do you kiss for?" 

“Why, that, you know, is to — well, they always 
do that." 

“Everybody?" 

“Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each 
other. Do you remember what I wrote on the 
slate?" 

“Ye—yes." 

“What was it?" 

“I sha'n't tell you." 

“Shall I tell yonV' 

“Ye — ^yes — ^but some other time." 

“No, now." 

“No, not now — to-morrow." 

“Oh, no, now. Please, Becky — I'll whisper it, 
I'll whisper it ever so easy." 

Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, 
and passed his arm about her waist and whispered 
the tale ever so softly, with his mouth close to her 
ear. And then he added : 

'*Now you whisper it to me — just the same." 

6o 


6 


MARK TWAIN 


She resisted, for a while, and then said : 

“You turn yoiu: face away so you can’t see, and 
then I will. But you mustn’t ever tell anybody — 
will you, Tom? Now you won’t, will you?” 

“No, indeed, indeed I won’t. Now, Becky.” 

He tinned his face away. She bent timidly 
around till her breath stirred his curls and whis- 
pered, “I — ^love — ^you!” 

Then she sprang away and ran around and 
around the desks and benches, with Tom after her, 
and took refuge in a comer at last, with her little 
white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about- 
her neck and pleaded: 

“Now, Becky, it’s all done — ^all over but the 
kiss. Don’t you be afraid of that — ^it ain’t any- 
thing at all. Please, Becky.” And he tugged at 
her apron and the hands. 

By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; 
her face, all glowing with the stmggle, came 
up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and 
said: 

“Now it’s all done, Becky. And always after 
this, you know, you ain’t ever to love anybody but 
me, and you ain’t ever to marry anybody but me, 
never never and forever. Will you?” 

“No, I’ll never love anybody but you, Tom, and 
I’ll never many anybody but you — and you ain’t 
to ever marry anybody but me, either.” 

“Certainly. Of course. That’s part of it. And 
always- coming to school or when we’re going home, 
you’re to walk with me, when there ain’t anybody 
looking — ^and you choose me and I choose you at 
70 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

parties, because that’s the way you do when you’re 
engaged.” 

'Tt’s so nice. I never heard of it before.” 

“Oh, it’s ever so gay! Why, me and Amy 
Lawrence — ” 

The big eyes told Tom his blimder and he stopped, 
confused. 

“Oh, Tom! Then I ain’t the first you’ve ever 
been engaged to!” 

The child began to cry. Tom r.aid: 

“Oh, don’t cry, Becky, I dor^’c care for her any 
more.” 

“Yes, you do, Tom — ^you know 3 cm do.” 

Tom tried to put his arm about her but she 
pushed him away and turned her face to the Wall, 
and went on crying. Tom tried again, with sooth- 
ing words in his mouth, and was repulsed agaic. 
Then his pride was up, and he strode away and went 
outside. He stood about, restless and imeasy, for a 
while, glancing at the door, every now and then, 
hoping she would repent and come to find him. 
But she did not. Then he began to feel badly and 
fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard strug- 
gle with him to make new advances, now, but he 
nerved himself to it and entered. She was still 
standing back there in the comer, sobbing, with her 
face to the wall. Tom’s heart smote him. He 
went to her and stood a moment, not knowing 
exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitat- 
ingly: 

“Becky, I — I don’t care for anybody but you.*^ 

No reply — ^but sobs. 


71 


MARK TWAIN 

“Becky/’ — ^pleadingly. “Becky, won’t you say 
something?” 

More sobs. 

Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from 
the top of an andiron, and passed it around her so 
that she could see it, and said: 

“Please, Becky, won’t you take it?” 

She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched 
out of the house and over the hills and far away, to 
return to school no more that day. Presently Becky 
began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not 
in sight; she flew aroimd to the play-yard; he was 
not there. Then she called: 

“Toin! Come back, Tom!” 

.--She listened intently, but there was no answer. 
She hadTLO companions but silence and loneliness. 
So she sat down to cry again and upbraid herself ; 
and by this time the scholars began to gather again, 
and she had to hide her griefs and still her broken 
heart and take up the cross of a long, dreary, aching 
afternoon, with none among the strangers about her 
to exchange sorrows with. 


CHAPTER Vin 


T om dodged hither and thither through lanes 
until he was well out of the track of returning 
scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He 
crossed a small “branch’^ two or three times, be- 
cause of a prevailing juvenile superstition that to 
cross water baJSled pursuit. Half an hour later he 
was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the 
summit of Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hard- 
ly distinguishable away off in the valley behind him. 
He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless way to 
the center of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under 
a spreading oak. There was not even a zephyr 
stirring; the dead noonday heat had even stiUed the 
songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was 
broken by no sotmd but the occasional far-off ham- 
mering of a woodpecker, and this seemed to render 
the pervading silence and sense of loneliness the 
more profoimd. The boy’s soul was steeped in, 
melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with 
his surroundings. He sat long with his elbows on 
his knees and his chin in his hands, meditating. It 
seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, 
and he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so 
lately released; it must be very peaceful, he thought, 
to lie and slumber and dream forever and ever, with 


7 .? 


MARK TWAIN 


the wind whispering through the trees and caressing 
the grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing 
to bother and grieve about, ever any more. If he 
only had a clean Sunday-school record he could be 
willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to 
this girl. What had he done? Nothing. He had 
meant the best in the world, and been treated like 
a dog — ^like a very dog. She would be sorry some 
day — ^maybe when it was too late. Ah, if he could 
only die temporarily! 

But the elastic heart of youth cannot be com- 
pressed into one constrained shape long at a time. 
Tom presently began to drift insensibly back into 
the concerns of this life again. What if he turned 
his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What 
if he went away — ever so far away, into unknown 
countries beyond the seas — and never came back 
any more! How would she feel then! The idea of 
being a clown recurred to him now, only to fill him 
with disgust. For frivolity and jokes and spotted 
tights were an offense, when they intruded them- 
selves upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague 
august realm of the romantic. No, he would be a 
soldier, and rettun after long years, all war-worn 
and illustrious. No — ^better still, he would join the 
Indians, and himt buffaloes and go on the warpath in 
the mountain ranges and the trackless great plains of 
the Far West, and away in the futiue come back 
a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with 
paint, and prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy 
summer morning, with a blood-curdling war-whoop, 
and sear the eyeballs of all his companions with 
74 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

unappeasable envy. But no, there was something 
gaudier even than this. He would be a pirate! 
That was it! Now his future lay plain before him, 
and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his 
name would fill the world, and make people shudder! 
How gloriously he would go plowing the dancing 
seas, in his long, low, black-hiilled racer, the Spirit 
of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the 
fore! And at the zenith of his fame, how he would 
suddenly appear at the old village and stalk into 
church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black 
velvet doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, 
his crimson sash, his belt bristling with horse- 
pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his 
slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag im- 
ftuled,with the skull and cross-bones on it, and hear 
with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, *Tt's Tom 
Sawyer the Pirate ! — the Black Avenger of the 
Spanish Main!” 

Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. 
He would run away from home and enter upon it. 
He would start the very next morning. Therefore 
he must now begin to get ready. He would collect 
his resources together. He went to a rotten log 
near at hand and began to dig under one end of 
it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that 
soimded hollow. "^He put his hand there and uttered 
this incantation impressively: 

‘‘What hasn’t come here, come! What’s here, 
stay here!” 

Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a 
pine shingle. He took it up and disclosed a shapely 
75 


MARK TWAIN 


little treasure-house whose bottom and sides were of 
shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom’s astonishment 
was botmdless! He scratched his head with a per- 
plexed air, and said: 

“Well, that beats anything!” 

Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and 
stood cogitating. The truth was, that a superstition 
of his had failed, here, which he and all his com- 
rades had always looked upon as infallible. If you 
buried a marble with certain necessary incantations, 
and left it alone a fortnight, and then opened the 
place with the incantation he had just used, you 
would find that aU the marbles you had ever lost 
had gathered themselves together there, meantime, 
no matter how widely they had been separated. 
But, now this thing had actually and tmquestionably 
failed. Tom’s whole structure of faith was shaken 
to its foimdations. He had many a time heard of 
this thing succeeding, but never of its failing before. 
It did not occur to him that he had tried it several 
times before, himself, but could never find the 
hiding-places afterward. He puzzled over the mat- 
ter some time, and finally decided that some witch 
had interfered and broken the charm. He thought 
he would satisfy himself on that point ; so he searched 
aroimd till he foimd a small sandy spot with a little 
funnel-shaped depression in it. He laid himself 
down and put his mouth close to this depression and 
called : 

“Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want 
to know! Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what 
I want to know!” 


76 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

The s^d began to work, and presently a small 
black bug appeared for a second and then darted 
•under again in a fright. 

“He dasn’t tell! So it was a witch that done it. 
I just knowed it.** 

He well knew the futility of trying to contend 
against witches, so he gave up discoiuraged. But 
it occiured to him that he might as well have the 
marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he 
went and made a patient search for it. But he 
could not find it. Now he went back to his treastu-e- 
house and carefully placed himself just as he had 
been standing when he tossed the marble away; 
then he took another marble from his pocket and 
tossed it in the same way, saying: 

“Brother, go find your brother!** 

He watched where it stopped, and went there 
and looked. But it must have fallen short or gone 
too far; so he tried twice more. The last repeti- 
tion was successful. The two marbles lay within a 
foot of each other. 

Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came 
faintly down the green aisles of the forest. Tom 
fltmg off his jacket and trousers, turned a suspender 
into a belt, raked away some brush behind the 
rotten log, disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath 
sword and a tin tnunpet, and in a moment had 
seized these things and botmded away, barelegged, 
with fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a 
great elm, blew an answering blast, and then began 
to tiptoe and look warily out, this way and that. 
He said cautiously — ^to an imaginary company: 

77 


MARK TWAIN 


•‘Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow/* 

Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and 
elaborately armed as Tom. Tom called: 

“Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest 
without my pass?** 

“Guy of Guisbome wants no man*s pass. Who 
art thou that — ^that — ** 

“Dares to hold such language,** said Tom, prompt- 
ing — ^for they talked “by the book,** from memory. 

“Who art thou that dares to hold such language?’* 

“I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff 
carcass soon shall know.** 

“Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? 
Right gladly will I dispute with thee the passes of 
the merry wood. Have at thee!’* 

They took their lath swords, dumped their other 
traps on the ground, struck a fencing attitude, foot 
to foot, and began a grave, careful combat, “two 
up and two down.’* Presently Tom said: 

“Now, if you’ve got the hang, go it lively!” 

So they “went it lively,” panting and perspiring 
with the work. By and by Tom shouted : 

“Fall! fall! Why don’t you fall?” 

‘ ‘ I sha’n’t ! Why don’t you fall yourself ? You’re 
getting the worst of it.” 

“Why, that ain’t anything. I can’t fall; that 
ain’t the way it is in the book. The book says, 
‘Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor 
Guy of Guisbome.* You’re to turn around and let 
me hit you in the back.” 

There was no getting aroimd the authorities, sa 
Joe turned, received the whack and fell. 

78 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


‘'Now/' said Joe, getting up, “you got to let me 
kill you. That’s fair.” 

“Why, I can’t do that, it ain’t in the book.” 

“Well, it’s blamed mean — that’s all.” 

“Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much 
the miller’s son, and lam me with a quarter-staff; or 
I’ll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and you be Robin 
Hood a little while and kill me.” 

This was satisfactory, and so these adventures 
were carried out. Then Tom became Robin Hood 
again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to 
bleed his strength away through his neglected 
wound. And at last Joe, representing a whole tribe 
of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, gave 
his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, “Where 
this arrow falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under 
the greenwood tree.” Then he shot the arrow and 
feU back and would have died, but he lit on a nettle 
and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. 

The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutre- 
ments, and went off grieving that there were no out- 
laws any more, and wondering what modern civiliza- 
tion could claim to have done to compensate for 
their loss. They said they would rather be outlaws 
a year in Sherwood Forest than President of the 
United States forever. 


CHAPTER IX 


AT half past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were 
X \ sent to bed, as usual. They said their prayers, 
and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and 
waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to 
him that it must be nearly daylight, he heard the 
clock strike ten ! This was despair. He would 
have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, 
but he was afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay 
still, and stared up into the dark. Everything was 
dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, 
scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize them- 
selves. The ticking of the clock began to bring it- 
self into notice. Old beams began to crack mysteri- 
ously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits 
were abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued 
from Aunt Polly’s chamber. And now the tiresome 
chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could 
locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a death- 
watch in the wall at the bed’s head made Tom 
shudder — ^it meant that somebody’s days were num- 
bered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the 
night air, and was answered by a fainter howl from 
a remoter distance. Tom was in an agony. At 
last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity 
begim; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the 
8o 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

clock chimed eleven, but he did not hear it. And 
then there came, mingling with his half-formed 
dreams, a most melancholy caterwaiiling. The 
raising of a neighboring window disturbed him. A 
cry of “Scat! you devil T' and the crash of an 
empty bottle against the back of his aunt’s woodshed 
brought him wide awake, and a single minute later 
he was dressed and out of the window and creeping 
along the roof of the “ell” on all foiu*s. He “me- 
ow’d” with caution once or twice, as he went; 
then jumped to the roof of the woodshed and thence 
to the groimd. Huckleberry Finn was there, with 
his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared 
in the gloom. At the end of half an hour they 
were wading through the tall grass of the graveyard. 

It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western 
kind. It was on a hill, about a mile and a half from 
the village. It had a crazy board fence around it, 
which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest 
of the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and 
weeds grew rank over the whole cemetery. All the 
old graves were sunken in, there was not a tombstone 
on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards 
staggered over the graves, leaning for support and 
finding none. “Sacred to the memory of” So- 
and-So had been painted on them once, but it could 
no longer have been read, on the most of them, now, 
even if there had been light. 

A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom 
feared it might be the spirits of the dead, complain- 
ing of being disturbed. The boys talked little, and 
®nly under their breath, for the time and the place 

8i 


MARK TWAIN 


and the pervading solemnity and silence oppressed 
their spirits. They found the sharp new heap they 
were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the 
protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch 
within a few feet of the grave. 

Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long 
time. The hooting of a distant owl was all the sound 
that troubled the dead stillness. Tom’s reflections 
grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he 
said in a whisper: 

“Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it 
for us to be here?” 

Huckleberry whispered: 

“I wisht I knowed. It’s awful solemn like, ain't 
it?” 

‘T bet it is.” 

There was a considerable pause, while the boys 
canvassed this matter inwardly. Then Tom whis- 
pered: 

**Say, Hucky — do you reckon Hoss Williams 
hears us talking?” 

“O’ course he does. Least his sperrit does.” 

Tom, after a pause : 

“I wish I’d said Mister Williams. But I never 
meant anyliarm. Everybody calls him Hoss.” 

“A body can’t be too partic’lar how they talk 
’bout these yer dead people, Tom.” 

This was a damper, and conversation died again. 

Presently Tom seized his comrade’s arm and said: 

“’Sh!” 

“What is it, Tom?” And the two clung together 
with beating hearts. 


82 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“’Sh! There ’tis again! Didn’t you hear it?” 

< i J > » 

“There! Now you hear it.” 

“Lord, Tom, they’re coming! They’re coming, 
sure. What ’ll we do?” 

“I dono. Think they’ll see us?” 

“Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. 
I wisht I hadn’t come.” 

“Oh, don’t be afeard. I don’t believe they’ll 
bother us. We ain’t doing any harm. If we keep 
perfectly still, maybe they won’t notice us at all.” 

“I’ll try to, Tom, but Lord, I’m aU of a shiver.” 

“Listen!” 

The boys bent their heads together and scarcely 
breathed. A muffled soimd of voices floated up 
from the far end of the graveyard. 

“Look! See there!” whispered Tom. “What 
is it?” 

“It’s devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful.” 

Some vague figures approached through the gloom, 
swinging an old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled 
the groimd with innumerable little spangles of light. 
Presently Huckleberry whispered with a shudder: 

“It’s the devils, sine enough. Three of ’em! 
Lordy, Tom, we’re goners! Can you pray?” 

“I’ll try, but don’t you be afeard. They am’t 
going to hurt us. Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I—” 

“’Sh!” 

“What is it, Huck?” 

“They’re humans! One of ’em is, anyway. One 
of ’em’s old Muff Potter’s voice,” 

83 


MARK TWAIN 


“No — ^tain’t so, is it?” 

‘T bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. 
He ain’t sharp enough to notice us. Drunk, the 
same as usual, likely — ^blamed old rip!” 

“All right. I’ll keep still. Now they’re stuck. 
Can’t find it. Here they come again. Now they’re 
hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot! They’re 
p’inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another 
o’ them voices; it’s Injun Joe.” 

“That’s so — that mmderin’ half-breed! I’d 
druther they was devils a dem sight. What kin 
they be up to?” 

The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three 
men had reached the grave and stood within a few 
feet of the boys’ hiding-place. 

“Here it is,” said the third voice; and the owner 
of it held the lantern up and revealed the face of 
young Dr. Robinson. 

Potter and Injim Joe were carrying a handbarrow 
with a rope and a couple of shovels on it. They 
cast down their load and began to open the grave. 
The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave 
and came and sat down with his back against one of 
the elm trees. He was so close the boys could have 
touched him. 

“Hurry, men!” he said in a low voice; “the 
moon might come out at any moment. 

They growled a response and went on digging. 
For some time there was no noise but the grating 
•sound of the spades discharging their freight of 
mold and gravel. It was very monotonous. Final- 
ly a spade struck upon the coffin with a dull woody 
84 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

accent, and within another minute or two the men 
had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off 
the lid with their shovels, got out the body and 
dumped it rudely on the groimd. The moon drifted 
from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid face. 
The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on 
it, covered with a blanket, and bound to its place 
with the rope. Potter took out a large spring-knife 
and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then 
said: 

“Now the cussed thing’s ready, Sawbones, and 
you’ll just out with another five, or here she stays.” 

“That’s the talk!” said Injun Joe. 

“Look here, what does this mean?” said the 
doctor. “You required your pay in advance, and 
I’ve paid you.” 

“Yes, and you done more than that,” said Injim 
Joe, approaching the doctor, who was now standing. 
“Five years ago you drove me away from yoiu* 
father’s kitchen one night, when I come to ask for 
something to eat, and you said I wam’t there for 
any good; and when I swore I’d get even with you 
if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed 
for a vagrant. Did you think I’d forget? The 
Injun blood ain’t in me for nothing. And now I’ve 
got you, and you got to settle , you know!” 

He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his 
face, by this time. The doctor struck out suddenly 
and stretched the ruffian on the groimd. Potter 
dropped his knife, and exclaimed: 

“Here, now, don’t you hit my pard!” and the 
next moment he had grappled with the doctor and 
7 85 


MARK TWAIN 


the two were struggling with might and main, 
trampling the grass and tearing the ground with 
their heels. Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes 
flaming with passion, snatched up Potter’s knife, 
and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and 
round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. 
All at once the doctor flung himself free, seized the 
heavy head-board of Williams’ grave and felled 
Potter to the earth with it — and in the same instant 
the haH-breed saw his chance and drove the knife 
to the hilt in the young man’s breast. He reeled 
and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him with his 
blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted 
out the dreadful spectacle and the two frightened 
boys went speeding away in the dark. 

Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun 
Joe was standing over the two forms, contem- 
plating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, 
gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half- 
breed muttered: 

*'That score is settled — damn you.” 

Then he robbed the body. After which he put the 
fatal knife in Potter’s open right hand, and sat down 
on the dismantled cofiin. Three — ^four — five minutes 
passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. 
His hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced 
at it, and let it fall, with a shudder. Then he sat 
up, pushing the body from him, and gazed at it, and 
then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe’s. 

“Lord, how is this, Joe?” he said. 

“It’s a dirty business,” said Joe, without moving, 
“‘What did you do it for?” 

86 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

' T ! I never done it 

‘‘Look here! That kind of talk won’t wash.’^ 

Potter trembled and grew white. 

“I thought I’d got sober. I’d no business tO' 
drink to-night. But it’s in my head yet — ^worse’n 
when we started here. I’m all in a muddle; can’t 
recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe — 
honest, now, old feller — did I do it? Joe, I never 
meant to — ’pon my soul and honor, I never meant 
to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it’s awful 
— and him so young and promising.” 

“Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you 
one with the headboard and you fell fiat; and then 
up you come, all reeling and staggering, like, and 
snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he 
fetched you another awful clip — and here you’ve 
laid, as dead as a wedge till now.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know what I was a-doing. I wish 
I may die this minute if I did. It was all on ac- 
count of the whisky; and the excitement, I reckon. 
I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I’ve 
fought, but never with weepons. They’ll all say 
that. Joe, don’t tell! Say you won’t tell, Joe— 
that’s a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and 
stood up for you, too. Don’t you remember? You 
won't teU, will you, Joe?” And the poor creature 
dropped on his knees before the stolid murderer, and 
clasped his appealing hands. 

“No, you’ve always been fair and square with 
me. Muff Potter, and I won’t go back on you. 
There, now, that’s as fair as a man can say.” 

“Oh, Joe, you’re an angel. I’ll bless you fot 
87 


MARK TWAIN 

this the longest day I live.” And Potter began 
to cry. 

“Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't 
any time for blubbering. You be off yonder way 
and I’ll go this. Move, now, and don’t leave any 
tracks behind you.” 

Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to 
a run. The half-breed stood looking after him. 
He muttered: 

“If he’s as much stunned with the lick and fud- 
dled with the rum as he had the look of being, he 
won’t think of the knife till he’s gone so far he’ll 
be afraid to come back after it to such a place by 
himself — chicken-heart !’ ' 

Two or three minutes later the murdered man, 
the blanketed corpse, the lidless coffin, and the 
open grave were imder no inspection but the moon’s. 
The stillness was complete again, too. 


CHAPTER X 


T he two boys flew on and on, toward the village, 
speechless with horror. They glanced back- 
ward over their shoulders from time to time, appre- 
hensively, as if they feared they might be followed. 
Every stump that started up in their path seemed a 
man and an enemy, and made them catch their 
breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages 
that lay near the village, the barking of the aroused 
watch-dogs seemed to give wings to their feet. 

‘Hf we can only get to the old tannery before we 
break down!” whispered Tom, in short catches be- 
tween breaths, “I can’t stand it much longer.” 

Huckleberry’s hard pantings were his only reply, 
and the boys fixed their eyes on the goal of their 
hopes and bent to their work to win it. They gained 
steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they 
burst through the open door and fell grateful and 
exhausted in the sheltering shadows beyond. By 
and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whis- 
pered : 

“Huckleberry, what do you reckon 11 come of 
this?” 

“If Dr. Robinson dies, I reckon hanging 11 como 
of it.” 

“Do you though?” 

So 


MARK TWAIN 


'‘Why, I know it, Tom.” 

Tom thought awhile, then he said: 

“Who’ll tell? We?” 

“What are you talking about? S’pose something 
happened and Injun Joe didn't hang? Why he’d 
kill us some time or other, just as dead siu:e as we’re 
a-laying here.” 

“That’s just what I was thinking to myself, 
Huck.” 

“If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he’s 
fool enough. He’s generally drunk enough.” 

Tom said nothing — went on thinking. Presently 
he whispered: 

“Huck, Muff Potter don’t know it. How can he 
tell?” 

“What’s the reason he don’t know it?” 

“Because he’d just got that whack when Injun 
Joe done it. D’ you reckon he could see anything? 
D’ you reckon he knowed anything?” 

“By hokey, that’s so, Tom!” 

“And besides, look-a-here — maybe that whack 
done for him!" 

“No, ’tain’t likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; 
I could see that ; and besides, he always has. Well, 
when pap’s full, you might take and belt him over 
the head with a chiu*ch and you couldn’t phase him. 
He says so, his own self. So it’s the same with Muff 
Potter, of course. But if a man was dead sober, I 
reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono.” 

After another reflective silence, Tom said: 

“Hucky, you siure you can keep m\im?” 

“Tom, we got to keep mum. You know that. 

90 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

That Injun devil wouldn’t make any more of drownd- 
ing us than a couple of cats, if we was to squeak 
’bout this and they didn’t hang him. Now, look-a- 
here, Tom, less take and swear to one another — 
that’s what we got to do — swear to keep mum.” 

‘T’m agreed. It’s the best thing. Would you 
just hold hands and swear that we — ” 

“Oh, no, that wouldn’t do for this. That’s good 
enough for little rubbishy common things — specially 
with gals, cuz they go back on you anyway, and blab 
if they get in a huff — but there orter be writing 
’bout a big thing like this. And blood.” 

Tom’s whole being applauded this idea. It was 
deep, and dark, and awful; the hour, the circum- 
stances, the surroundings, were in keeping with it. 
He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the 
moonhght, took a little fragment of “red keel” out 
of his pocket, got the moon on his work, and pain- 
fully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow 
down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his 
teeth, and letting up the pressure on the up-strokes 
[See next page.] 

Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom’s 
facihty in writing, and the sublimity of his language. 
He at once took a pin from his lapel and was going 
to prick his flesh, but Tom said : 

“Hold on! Don’t do that. A pin’s brass. It 
might have verdigrease on it.” 

“What’s verdigrease?” 

“It’s p’ison. That’s what it is. You just swaller 
some of it once — ^you’ll see.” 

So Tom unwoimd the thread from one of his nee- 
91 


MARK TWAIN 


4tSn0tyU^ 



dies, and each boy pricked the ball of his thumb and 
squeezed out a drop of blood. In time, after many 
squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using 
the ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he 
showed Huckleberry how to make an H and an F, 
and the oath was complete. They buried the 
shingle close to the waU, with some dismal cere- 
monies and incantations, and the fetters that bound 
their tongues were considered to be locked and the 
key thrown away. 

A figure crept stealthily through a break in the 
other end of the ruined building, now, but they did 
not notice it. 


92 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


“Tom,” whispered Huckleberry, “does this keep 
us from ever telling — alwaysf 

“Of course it does. It don’t make any differ- 
ence what happens, we got to keep mum. We’d 
drop down dead — don’t you know that?” 

“Yes, I reckon that’s so.” 

They continued to whisper for some little time. 
Presently a dog set up a long, lugubrious howl just 
outside — ^within ten feet of them. The boys clasped 
each other suddenly, in an agony of fright. 

“Which of us does he mean?” gasped Huckle- 
berry. 

“I dono — ^peep through the crack. Quick!” 

“No, yoUy Tom!” 

“I can’t — I can’t do it, Huck!” 

“Please, Tom. There ’tis again!” 

“Oh, lordy, I’m thankful!” whispered Tom. 
“I know his voice. It’s Bull Harbison.”^ 

“Oh, that’s good — I tell you, Tom, I was most 
scared to death; I’d ’a’ bet anything it was a stray 
dog.” 

The dog howled again. The boys’ hearts sank 
once more. 

“Oh, my! that ain’t no Bull Harbison!” whispered 
Huckleberry. ‘ ‘ Do, Tom !” 

Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye 
to the crack. His whisper was hardly audible when 
he said: 

“Oh, Huck, it’s a stray dog!” 

^If Mr. Harbison had owned a slave named Bull, Tom would 
have spoken of him as “Harbison's Bull,” but a son or a dog of 
that name was “Bull Harbison.” 

93 


MARK TWAIN 


“Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?’’ 

“Huck, he must mean us both — ^we’re right 
together.” 

“Oh, Tom, I reckon we’re goners. I reckon there 
ain’t no mistake ’bout where Fll go to. I been so 
wicked.” 

“Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey 
and doing everything .a feller’s told not to do. I 
might ’a’ been good, like Sid, if I’d ’a’ tried — ^but no, 
I wouldn’t, of coirrse. But if ever I get off this 
time, I lay I’ll just waller in Sunday-schools!” And 
Tom began to snuffle a little. 

*'You bad!” and Huckleberry began to snuffle 
too. “Consound it, Tom Sawyer, you’re just old 
pie, ’longside o’ what I am. Oh, lordy, lordy, 
lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance.” 

Tom choked off and whispered: 

“Look, Hucky, look! He’s got his hack to 
us!” 

Hucky looked, with joy in his heart. 

“Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?” 

“Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. 
Oh, this is bully, you know. Now who can he 
mean?” 

The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears. 

* ‘ ’Sh ! What’s that ?” he whispered. 

“Sounds like — like hogs grunting. No — it’s 
somebody snoring, Tom.” 

“That is it! Where’bouts is it, Huck?” 

“I bleeve it’s down at ’tother end. Sounds so, 
anyway. Pap used to sleep there, sometimes, ’long 
with the hogs, but laws bless you, he just lifts things 
94 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


when he snores. Besides, I reckon he ain’t ever 
coming back to this town any more.” 

The spirit of adventure rose in the boys’ souls 
once more. 

“Hucky, do you das’t to go if I lead?” 

*T don’t like to, much. Tom, s’pose it’s Injun 
Joe!” 

Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose 
up strong again and the boys agreed to try, with 
the imderstanding that they would take to their 
heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoe- 
ing stealthily down, the one behind the other. When 
they had got to within five steps of the snorer, 
Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp 
snap. The man moaned, writhed a little, and his 
face came into the moonlight. It was Muff Potter. 
The boys’ hearts had stood still, and their hopes 
too, when the man moved, but their fears passed 
away now. They tiptoed out, through the broken 
weather-boarding, and stopped at a little distance 
to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious 
howl rose on the night air again! They turned and 
saw the strange dog standing within a few feet of 
where Potter was lying, and facing Potter, with his 
nose pointing heavenward. 

“Oh, geeminy, it’s himr exclaimed both boys, 
in a breath. 

“Say, Tom — they say a stray dog come howling 
arotmd Johnny Miller’s house, ’bout midnight, as 
much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill come 
in and Ht on the banisters and stuig, the very same 
evening; and there ain’t anybody dead there yet.” 

95 


MARK TWAIN 


“Well, I know that. And suppose there ain’t. 
Didn’t Grade Miller fall in the kitchen fire and 
bum herself terrible the very next Saturday?” 

“Yes, but she ain’t dead. And what’s more, 
she’s getting better, too.” 

“All right, you wait and see. She’s' a goner, 
just as 'dead sure as Muff Potter’s a goner. That’s 
what the niggers say, and they know all about these 
kind of things, Huck.” 

Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom 
crept in at his bedroom window the night was al- 
most spent. He tmdressed with excessive caution, 
and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody 
knew of his escapade. He was not aware that the 
gently snoring Sid was awake, and had been so for 
an hour. 

When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. 
There was a late look in the light, a late sense in 
the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he 
not been called — persecuted till he was up, as usual? 
The thought filled him with bodings. Within five 
minutes he was dressed and down-stairs, feeling sore 
and drowsy. The family were still at table, but 
they had finished breakfast. There was no voice of 
rebuke; but there were averted eyes; there was a 
silence and an air of solemnity that struck a chill to 
the culprit’s heart. He sat down and tried to seem 
gay, but it was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no 
response, and he lapsed into silence and let his heart 
sink down to the depths. 

After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom 
almost brightened in the hope that he was going to 
96 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt wept over 
him and asked him how he could go and break her 
old heart so ; and finally told him to go on, and ruin 
himself and bring her gray hairs with sorrow to the 
grave, for it was no use for her to try any more. 
This was worse than a thousand whippings, and 
Tom’s heart was sorer now than his body. He 
cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised to reform 
over and over again, and then received his dismissal, 
feeling that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness 
and established but a feeble confidence. 

He left the presence too miserable to even feel 
revengeful toward Sid; and so the latter’s prompt 
retreat through the back gate was unnecessary. He 
moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flog- 
ging, along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the 
day before, with the air of one whose heart was 
busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to trifles. 
Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows 
on his desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at 
the wall with the stony stare of suffering that has 
reached the limit and can no further go. His elbow 
was pressing against some hard substance. After a 
long time he slowly and sadly changed his position, 
and took up this object with a sigh. It was in a 
paper. Pie unroUed it. A long, lingering, colossal 
sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass 
andiron knob ! 

This final feather broke the camel’s back. 


CHAPTER XI 


C LOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village 
was suddenly electrified with the ghastly news. 
No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph; the 
tale flew from man to man, from group to group, 
from house to house, with little less than telegraphic 
speed. Of comse the schoolmaster gave holiday for 
that afternoon; the town would have thought 
strangely of him if he had not. 

A gory knife had been found close to the mim- 
dered man, and it had been recognized by somebody 
as belonging to Muff Potter — so the story ran. 
And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon 
Potter washing himself in the “branch” about one 
or two o’clock in the morning, and that Potter had 
at once sneaked off — suspicious circumstances, es- 
pecially the washing, which was not a habit with 
Potter. It was also said that the town had been 
ransacked for this “murderer” (the public are not 
slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at 
a verdict), but that he could not be found. Horse- 
men had departed down all the roads in every direc- 
tion, and the Sheriff “was confident” that he would 
be captured before night. 

All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. 
Tom’s heartbreak vanished and he joined the pro- 
98 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

cession, not because he would not a thousand times 
rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, im- 
accountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the 
dreadful place, he wormed his small body through 
the crowd and saw the dismal spectacle. It seemed 
to him an age since he was there before. Some- 
body pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes 
met Huckleberry’s. Then both looked elsewhere at 
once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything 
in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, 
and intent upon the grisly spectacle before them. 

“Poor fellow I” “Poor yoimg fellow!” “This 
ought to be a lesson to grave -robbers I” “Mujff 
Potter ’ll hang for this if they catch him!” This 
was the drift of remark; and the minister said, “It 
was a judgment; His hand is here.” 

Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his 
eye fell upon the stolid face of Injun Joe. At this 
moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, and 
voices shouted, “It’s him! it’s him! he’s coming 
himself!” 

“Who? Who?” from twenty voices. 

“Muff Potter!” 

“Hallo, he’s stopped! — Look out, he’s turning! 
Don’t let him get away!” 

People in the branches of the trees over Tom’s 
head said he wasn’t trying to get away — ^he only 
looked doubtful and perplexed. 

“Infernal impudence!” said a bystander; “wanted 
to come and take a quiet look at his work, I reckon 
— didn’t expect any company.” 

The crowd feU apart, now, and the Sheriff came 
99 


MARK TWAIN 


through, ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. 
The poor fellow's face was haggard, and his eyes 
showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood 
before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, 
and he put his face in his hands and burst into tears. 

“I didn’t do it, friends,” he sobbed; ‘‘’pon my 
word and honor I never done it.” 

Who’s accused you?” shouted a voice. 

This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted 
his face and looked around him with a pathetic 
hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injim Joe, and 
exclaimed: 

^‘Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you’d never — ” 

*Ts that your knife?” and it was thrust before 
him by the Sheriff. 

Potter would have fallen if they had not caught 
him and eased him to the ground. Then he said: 

“Something told me ’t if I didn’t come back and 
get — ” He shuddered; then waved his nerveless 
hand with a vanquished gesture and said, “Tell 
’em, Joe, tell ’em — ^it ain’t any use any more.” 

Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and 
staring, and heard the stony-hearted liar reel off his 
serene statement, they expecting every moment that 
the clear sky would deliver God’s lightnings upon 
his head, and wondering to see how long the stroke 
was delayed. And when he had finished and still 
stood aHve and whole, their wavering impulse to 
break their oath and save the poor betrayed prison- 
er’s life faded and vanished away, for plainly this mis- 
Jireant had sold himself to Satan and it would be fatal 
ito meddle with the property of such a power as that. 


IQO 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Why didn’t you leave? What did you want to 
come here for?” somebody said. 

“I couldn’t help it — I couldn’t help it,” Potter 
moaned. “I wanted to rtm away, but I couldn’t 
seem to come anywhere but here.” And he fell to 
sobbing again. 

Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, 
a few minutes afterward on the inquest, imder oath ; 
and the boys, seeing that the lightnings were still 
withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe had 
sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to 
them, the most balefully interesting object they had 
ever looked upon, and they could not take their 
fascinated eyes from his face. 

They inwardly resolved to watch him, nights, 
when opportunity should offer, in the hope of 
getting a glimpse of his dread master. 

Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered 
man and put it in a wagon for removal; and it 
was whispered through the shuddering crowd that 
the wotmd bled a little ! The boys thought that tliis 
happy circumstance would turn suspicion in the 
right direction; but they were disappointed, for more 
than one villager remarked: 

“It was within three feet of Muff Potter when 
it done it.” 

Tom’s fearful secret and gnawing conscience dis- 
turbed his sleep for as much as a week after this; 
and at breakfast one morning Sid said: 

“Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep 
so much that you keep me awake half the time.” 

Tom blanched and dropped his eyes. 

8 


lOI 


MARK TWAIN 


‘Tt’s a bad sign/' said Aimt Polly, gravely. 
“What you got on your mind, Tom?” 

“Nothing. Nothing 't I know of.” But the 
boy’s hand shook so that he spilled his coffee. 

“And you do talk such stuff,” Sid said. “Last 
night you said ‘it’s blood, it’s blood, that’s what 
it is ! ’ You said that over and over. And you sai(f, 
‘Don’t torment me so — I ’ll tell!’ Tell What 

is it you’ll tell?” 

Everything was swimming before Tom. There is 
no telling what might have happened, now, but 
luckily the concern passed out of Aimt Polly’s face 
and she came to Tom’s relief without knowing it. 
She said: 

“Shot It’s that dreadful murder. I dream about 
it most every night myself. Sometimes I dream it’s 
me that done it.” 

Mary said she had been affected much the same 
way. Sid seemed satisfied. Tom got out of the 
presence as quick as he plausibly could, and after 
that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied 
up his jaws every night. He ne^^rer knew that Sid 
lay nightly watching, and frequently slipped the 
bandage free and then leaned on his elbow listening 
a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the 
bandage back to its place again. Tom’s distress of 
mind wore off gradually and the toothache grew irk- 
some and was discarded. If Sid really managed to 
make anything out of Tom’s, disjointed mutterings, 
he kept it to himself. 

It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would 
get done holding inquests on dead cats, and thus 


102 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

keeping his trouble present to his mind. Sid noticed 
that Tom never was coroner at one of these in- 
quiries, though it had been his habit to take the lead 
in all new enterprises; he noticed, too, that Tom 
never acted as a witness — ^and that was strange ; and 
Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed 
a marked aversion to these inquests, and always 
avoided them when he could. Sid marveled, but 
said nothing. However, even inquests went out of 
vogue at last, and ceased to tortme Tom^s conscience. 

Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom 
watched his opportunity and went to the little grated 
jail-window and smuggled such small comforts 
through to the ‘‘murderer’^ as he could get hold of. 
The jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a 
marsh at the edge of the village, and no guards were 
afforded for it ; indeed it was seldom occupied. These 
offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's conscience. 

The villagers had a strong desire to tar and feather 
Injim Joe and ride him on a rad, for body-snatching, 
but so formidable was his character that nobody 
could be f oimd who was willing to take the lead in the 
matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to 
begin both of his inquest statements with the fight, 
without confessing the grave-robbery that preceded 
it ; therefore it was deemed wisest not to try the case 
in the courts at present. 


CHAPTER XII 


O NE of the reasons why Tom’s mind had drifted 
away from its secret troubles was, that it had 
found a new and weighty matter to interest itself 
about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to 
school. Tom had struggled with his pride a few 
days, and tried to “whistle her down the wind,” 
but failed. He began to find himself hanging around 
her father’s house, nights, and feeling very miserable. 
She was ill. What if she shotdd die! There was 
distraction in the thought. He no longer took an 
interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of 
life was gone; there was nothing but dreariness left. 
He put his hoop away, and his bat; there was no 
joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. 
She began to try all manner of remedies on him. 
She was one of those people who are infatuated with 
patent medicines and all new-fangled methods of pro- 
ducing health or mending it. She was an inveterate 
experimenter in these things. When something 
fresh in this line came out she was in a fever, right 
away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never 
ailing, but on anybody else that came handy. She 
was a subscriber for aU the “Health” periodicals 
and phrenological frauds; and the solemn ignorance 
they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. 
All the “rot” they contained about ventilation, and 

104 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

how to go to bed, and how to get up, and what to 
eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to 
take, and what frame of mind to keep one’s self in, 
and what sort of clothing to wear, was all gospel to 
her, and she never observed that her health- journals 
of the current month customarily upset everything 
they had recommended the month before. She was 
as simple-hearted and honest as the day was long, 
and so she was an easy victim. She gathered to- 
gether her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, 
and thus armed with death, went about on her pale 
horsfe, metaphorically speaking, with “hell following 
after.” But she never suspected that she was not an 
angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, 
to the suffering neighbors. 

The water treatment was new, now, and Tom’s low 
condition was a windfall to her. She had him out at 
daylight every morning, stood him up in the wood- 
shed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; 
then she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, 
and so brought him to; then she rolled him up in 
a wet sheet and put him away under blankets till she 
sweated his soul clean and “the yellow stains of it 
came through his pores” — as Tom said. 

Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more 
and more melancholy and pale and dejected. She 
added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, and 
plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. 
She began to assist the water with a slim oatmeal 
diet and blister-plasters. She calculated his capacity 
as she would a jug’s, and filled him up every day 
with quack cme-alls. 


105 


MARK TWAIN 


Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this 
time. This phase filled the old lady’s heart with 
consternation. This indifference must be broken up 
at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the 
first time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted 
it and was filled with gratitude. It was simply fire 
in a liquid form. She dropped the water treatment 
and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain- 
killer. She gave Tom a teaspoonfiil and watched 
with the deepest anxiety for the result. Her 
troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace 
again; for the “indifference” was broken up. The 
boy could not have shown a wilder, heartier interest 
if she had built a fire under him. 

Tom felt that it was time to wake up ; this sort of 
life might be romantic enough, in his blighted con- 
dition, but it was getting to have too little sentiment 
and too much distracting variety about it. So he 
thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit 
upon that of professing to be fond of Pain-killer. 
He asked for it so often that he became a nuisance, 
and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself 
and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she 
would have had no misgivings to alloy her delight; 
but since it was Tom, she watched the bottle clan- 
destinely. She foimd that the medicine did really 
diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy 
was mending the health of a crack in the sitting- 
room floor with it. 

One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when 
his aunt’s yellow cat came along, purring, eyingthe tea- 
spoon avariciously, and begging for a taste. Tom said ; 
io6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘‘Don’t ask for it unless you want it, Peter.” 

But Peter signified that he did want it. 

“You better make sure.” 

Peter was sure. 

“Now you’ve asked for it, and I’ll give it to you, 
because there ain’t anything mean about me; but 
if you find you don’t like it, you mustn’t blame any- 
body but your own self.” 

Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth 
open and poured down the Pain-killer. Peter sprang 
a couple of yards in the air, and then delivered a 
war-whoop and set off round and round the room, 
banging against fumitime, upsetting flower-pots, and 
making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind 
feet and pranced arotmd, in a frenzy of enjoyment, 
with his head over his shoulder and his voice pro- 
claiming his imappeasable happiness. Then he went 
tearing arotmd the house again spreading chaos and 
destruction in his path. Atmt Polly entered in time 
to see him throw a few double somersets, deliver a final 
mighty hurrah, and sail through the open window, car- 
rying the rest of the flower-pots with him. The old lady 
stood petrified with astonishment, peering over her 
glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter. 

“Tom, what on earth ails that cat?” 

“I don’t know, atmt,” gasped the boy. 

“Why, I never see anything like it. What did 
make him act so?” 

“ ’Deed I don’t know. Aunt Polly; cats always act 
so when they’re having a good time.” 

“They do, do they?” There was something in 
the tone that made Tom apprehensive. 

107 


MARK TWAIN 

‘‘Yes’m. That is, I believe they do.” 

“You dor 

“Yes’m.” 

The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, 
with interest emphasized by anxiety. Too late he 
divined her “drift.” The handle of the telltale 
teaspoon was visible imder the bed-valance. Aimt 
Polly took it, held it up. Tom winced, and dropped 
his . eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual 
handle — ^his ear — ^and cracked his head soundly 
with her thimble. 

“Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor 
dumb beast so for?” 

“I done it out of pity for him — ^because he hadn’t 
any aunt.” 

“Hadn’t any aunt! — ^you numskull. What has 
that got to do with it?” 

‘ ‘ Heaps. Because if he’d ’a’ had one she’d ’a’ burnt 
him out (herself! She’d ’a’ roasted his bowels out 
of him ’thout any more feeling than if he was a 
human!” 

Aimt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This 
was putting the thing in a new light; what was 
cruelty to a cat might be cruelty to a boy, too. She 
began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered 
a little, and she put her hand on Tom’s head and 
said gently: 

“I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, 
it did do you good.” 

Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible 
twinkle peeping through his gravity: 

“I know you was meaning for the best, auntie, 
108 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

and so was I with Peter. It done him good, too. I 
never see him get aroimd so since — ” 

“Oh, go ’long with you, Tom, before you aggra- 
vate me again. And you try and see if you. can’t 
be a good boy, for once, and you needn’t take any 
more medicine.” 

Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed 
that this strange thing had been occurring every day 
latterly. And now, as usual of late, he hung about 
the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with^is* 
comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. 
He tried to seem to be looking everywhere but 
whither he really was looking — down the road. Pres- 
ently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom’s face 
lighted; he gazed a moment, and then turned sor- 
rowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom accosted 
him, and “led up” warily to opportunities for re- 
mark about Becky, but the giddy lad never could see 
the bait. Tom watched and watched, hoping when- 
ever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the 
owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right 
one. At last frocks ceased to appear, and he drop- 
ped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered the 
empty school-house and sat down to suffer. Then 
one more frock passed in at the gate, and Tom’s 
heart gave a great bound. The next instant he was 
out, and “going on” like an Indian; yelling, laugh- 
ing, chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk 
of life and limb, throwing hand-springs, standing on 
his head — doing all the heroic things he could con- 
ceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, 
to see if Becky Thatcher was noticing. But she 
109 


MARK TWAIN 


seemed to be imconscious of it all; she never looked. 
Could it be possible that she was not aware that he 
was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate 
vicinity; came war- whooping arotind, snatched a 
boy’s cap, hurled it to the roof of the school-house, 
broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in 
every direction, and fell sprawling, himself, imder 
Becky’s nose, almost upsetting her — and she turned, 
with her nose in the air, and he heard her say: ‘'Mf ! 
some people think they’re mighty smart — always 
showing off!” 

Tom’s cheeks burned. He gathered himself up 
and sneaked off, crushed and crestfallen. 


CHAPTER XIII 


T OM’S mind was made up now. He was gloomy 
and desperate. He was a forsaken, friendless 
boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found 
out what they had driven him to, perhaps they 
would be sorry; he had tried to do right and get 
along, but they would not let him; since nothing 
would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; 
and let them blame him for the consequences — why 
shouldn’t they? What right had the friendless to 
complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: 
he would lead a life of crime. There was no choice. 

By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and 
the beU for school to ‘'take up” tinkled faintly 
upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he should 
never, never hear that old familiar sound any more 
— ^it was very hard, but it was forced on him; since 
he was driven out into the cold world, he must 
submit — ^but he forgave them. Then the sobs came 
thick and fast. 

Just at this point he met his soul’s sworn comrade, 
Joe Harper — ^hard-eyed, and with evidently a great 
and dismal purpose in his heart. Plainly here were 
“two souls with but a single thought.” Tom, 
wiping his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out 
something about a resolution to escape from hard 

III 


MARK TWAIN 


usage and lack of sympathy at home by roam- 
ing abroad into the great world never to return; 
and ended by hoping that Joe would not forget 
him. 

But it transpired that this was a request which 
Joe had just been going to make of Tom, and had 
come to hunt him up for that propose. His mother 
had whipped him for drinking some cream which he 
had never tasted and knew nothing about; it was 
plain that she was tired of him and wished him to 
go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him 
to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, 
and never regret having driven her poor boy out 
into the unfeeling world to suffer and die. 

As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they 
made a new compact to stand by each other and 
be brothers and never separate till death relieved 
them of their troubles. Then they began to lay 
their plans. Joe was for being a hermit, and Hving 
on crusts in a remote cave, and dying, some time, 
of cold and want and grief; but after listening to 
Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous 
advantages about a life of crime, and so he con- 
sented to be a pirate. 

Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where 
the Mississippi River was a trifle over a mile wide, 
there was a long, narrow, wooded island, with a 
shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well 
as a rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far 
over toward the further shore, abreast a dense and 
almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson’s 
Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of 


II2 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

their piracies, was a matter that did not occur to 
them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry Finn, and 
he joined them promptly, for all careers were one 
to him; he was indifferent. They presently sepa- 
rated to meet at a lonely spot on the river-bank two 
miles above the village at the favorite hour — ^which 
was midnight. There was a small log raft there 
which they meant to capture. Each would bring 
hooks and lines, and such provision as he could steal 
in the most dark and mysterious way — as became 
outlaws. And before the afternoon was done, they 
had all managed to enjoy the sweet glory of spread- 
ing the fact that pretty soon the town would “hear 
something.’' All who got this vague hint were 
cautioned to “be mum and wait.” 

About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham 
and a few trifles, and stopped in a dense under- 
growth on a small bluff overlooking the meetiag- 
place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty 
river lay like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a 
moment, but no sound distmbed the quiet. Then 
he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered 
from imder the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; 
these signals were answered in the same way. Then 
a guarded voice said: 

“Who goes there?” 

“Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish 
Main. Name your names.” 

“Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper 
the Terror of the Seas.” Tom had furnished these 
titles, from his favorite literature. 

“’Tis well. Give the countersign.” 

113 


MARK TWAIN 


Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful 
word simultaneously to the brooding night: 

“Blood!” 

Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and 
let himself down after it, tearing both skin and 
clothes to some extent in the effort. There was an 
easy, comfortable path along the shore under the 
bluff, but it lacked the advantages of difficulty and 
danger so valued by a pirate. 

The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of 
bacon, and had about worn himself out with getting 
it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen a skillet 
and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had 
also brought a few corn-cobs to make pipes with. 
But none of the pirates smoked or “chewed” but 
himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main 
said it would never do to start without some fire. 
That was a wise thought; matches were hardly 
known there in that day. They saw a fire smolder- 
ing upon a great raft a himdred yards above, and 
they went stealthily thither and helped themselves to 
a chunk. They made an imposing adventure of it, 
saying, “Hist!” every now and then, and suddenly 
halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on 
imaginary dagger-hilts; and giving orders in dismal 
whispers that if “the foe” stirred, to “let him have 
it to the hilt,” because “dead men tell no tales.” 
They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all 
down at the village laying in stores or having a spree, 
but still that was no excuse for their conducting this 
thing in an impiratical way. 

They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Huck at the after oar and Joe at the forward. Tom 
stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with folded 
arms, and gave his orders in a low, stem whisper: 

‘‘Liiff, and bring her to the windT* 

‘‘Aye-aye, sir!” 

‘ ‘ Steady, steady-y-y-y !’ ’ 

“Steady it is, sir!” 

“Let her go off a point!” 

“Point it is, sir!” 

As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the 
raft toward midstream it was no doubt understood 
that these orders were given only for “style,” and 
were not intended to mean anything in particular. 

“What sail’s she carrying?” 

“Comses, tops’ls, and flying- jib, sir.” 

“Send the r’yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half 
a dozen of ye — ^foretopmaststims’l! Lively, now!” 

“Aye-aye, sir!” 

“Shake out that maintogalans’l ! Sheets and 
braces! Now, my hearties!” 

“Aye-aye, sir!” 

“Hellum-a-lee — ^hard a port! Stand by to meet 
her when she comes! Port, port! Now, men! 
With a will! Stead-y-y-y !” 

“Steady it is, sir!” 

The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the 
boys pointed her head right, and then lay on their 
oars. The river was not high, so there was not 
more than a two or three mile cturent. Hardly a 
word was said during the next three-quarters of an 
hour. Now the raft was passing before the distant 
town. Two or three glimmering Hghts showed 

115 


MARK TWAIN 


where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague 
vast sweep of star-gemmed water, unconscious of 
the tremendous event that was happening. The 
Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, “look- 
ing his last” upon the scene of his former joys and 
his later sufferings, and wishing “she” could see 
him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and 
death with daimtless heart, going to his doom with a 
grim smile on his lips. It was but a small strain on 
his imagination to remove Jackson's Island beyond 
eye-shot of the village, and so he “looked his last” 
with a broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates 
were looking their last, too; and they all looked so 
long that they came near letting the cmrent drift 
them out of the range of the island. But they dj.s- 
covered the danger in time, and made shift to avert 
it. About two o'clock in the morning the raft 
grotmded on the bar two hundred yards above the 
head of the island, and they waded back and forth 
until they had landed their freight. Part of the little 
raft’s belongings consisted of an old sail, and this 
they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to 
shelter their provisions; but they themselves would 
sleep in the open air in good weather, as became 
outlaws. 

They built a fire against the side of a great log 
twenty or thirty steps within the somber depths of 
the forest, and then cooked some bacon in the frying- 
pan for supper, and used up half of the com “pone” 
stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport 
to be feasting in that wild free way in the virgin 
forest of an imexplored and uninhabited island, far 

ii6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

from the haunts of men, and they said they never 
would return to civilization. The climbing fire lit 
up their faces and threw its ruddy glare upon the 
pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple, and upon 
the varnished foliage and festooning vines. 

When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and 
the last allowance of com pone devoured, the boys 
stretched themselves out on the grass, filled with 
contentment. They could have found a cooler 
place, but they would not deny themselves such a 
romantic feature as the roasting camp-fire. 

Ain't it gay?” said Joe. 

"‘It’s nuts!" said Tom. “What would the boys 
say if they could see us?” 

“Say? Well, they’d just die to be here — ^hey, 
Hucky!” 

“I reckon so,” said Huckleberry; “anyways, 
7’m suited. I don’t want nothing better’n this. I 
don’t ever get enough to eat, gen’ally — and here 
they can’t come and pick at a feller and bullyrag 
him so.” 

“It’s just the life for me,” said Tom. “You 
don’t have to get up, mornings, and you don’t have 
to go to school, and wash, and all that blame fool- 
ishness. You see a pirate don’t have to do any- 
thing, Joe, when he’s ashore, but a hermit he has to 
be praying considerable, and then he don’t have any 
fim, anyway, all by himself that way.” 

“Oh, yes, that’s so,” said Joe, “but I hadn’t 
thought much about it, you know. I’d a good deal 
rather be a pirate, now that I’ve tried it.” 

“You see,” said Tom, “people don’t go much 
117 


9 


MARK TWAIN 


on hermits, nowadays, like they used to in old times, 
but a pirate’s always respected. And a hermit’s 
^ot to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and 
put sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out 
in the rain, and — ” 

*‘What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his 
head for?” inquired Huck. 

dono. But they’ve got to do it. Hermits always 
do. You’d have to do that if you was a hermit.” 

‘‘Dem’d if I would,” said Huck. 

“Well, what would you do?” 

“I dunno. But I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Why, Huck, you’d have to. How’d you get 
around it?” 

“Why, I just wouldn’t stand it. I’d run away.” 

“Run away! Well, you would be a nice old 
slouch of a hermit. You’d be a disgrace.” 

The Red-Handed made no response, being better 
employed. He had finished gouging out a cob, and 
now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded it with 
tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and 
blowing a cloud of fragrant smoke — he was in the 
full bloom of luxurious contentment. The other 
pirates envied him this majestic vice, and secretly 
resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said : 

“What does pirates have i j do?” 

Tom said: 

“Oh, they have just a bully time— take ships 
and bum them, and get the money and bury it in 
awful places in their island where there’s ghosts and 
things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships — 
make ’em walk a plank.” 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“And they carry the women to the island, “ said 
Joe; “they don’t kill the women.” 

“No,” assented Tom, “they don’t kill the women 
— they’re too noble. And the women’s always 
beautiful, too.” 

“And don’t they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh, 
no! All gold and silver and di’monds,” said Joe, 
with enthusiasm. 

“Who?” said Huck. 

“Why, the pirates.” 

Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly. 

“I reckon I ain’t dressed fitten for a pirate,” said 
he, with a regretful pathos in his voice; “but I 
ain’t got none but these.” 

But the other boys told him the fine clothes would 
come fast enough, after they should have begun their 
adventures. They made him understand that his 
poor rags would do to begin with, though it was 
customary for wealthy pirates to start with a proper 
wardrobe. 

Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness be^ 
gan to steal upon the eyelids of the little waifs. The 
pipe dropped from the fingers of the Red-Handed, 
and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the 
weary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black 
Avenger of the Spanish Main had more difficulty in 
getting to sleep. They said their prayers inwardly, 
and lying down, since there was nobody there with 
authority to make them kneel and recite aloud; in 
truth, they had a mind not to say them at all, but 
they were afraid to proceed to such lengths at that, 
lest they might call down a sudden and special 
119 


MARK TWAIN 


thunderbolt from Heaven. Then at once they 
reached and hovered upon the imminent verge of 
sleep — but an intruder came, now, that would not 
“down.” It was conscience. They began to feel 
a vague fear that they had been doing wrong to run 
away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, 
and then the real torture came. They tried to argue 
it away by reminding conscience that they had pur- 
loined sweetmeats and apples scores of times; but 
conscience was not to be appeased by such thin 
plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that 
there was no getting around the stubborn fact that 
taking sweetmeats was only “hooking,” while taking 
bacon and hams and such valuables was plain simple 
stealing — and there was a command against that in 
the Bible. So they inwardly resolved that so long 
as they remained in the business, their piracies 
should not again be sullied with the crime of steal- 
ing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these 
curiously inconsistent pirates fell peacefully to sleep. 


CHAPTER XIV 


W HEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered 
where he was. He sat up and rubbed his eyes 
and looked aroimd. Then he comprehended. It 
was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious 
sense of repose and peace in the deep pervading calm 
and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred ; not a 
sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. 
Beaded dewdrops stood upon the leaves and grasses. 
A white layer of ashes covered the fire, and a thin 
blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe 
and Huck still slept. 

Now, far away in the woods a bird called; an- 
other answered; presently the hammering of a wood- 
pecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of 
the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds 
multiplied and life manifested itself. The marvel of 
Nature shaking off sleep and going to work unfolded 
itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came 
crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-t irds of his 
body into the air from time to time and “sniffing 
around," then proceeding again — for he was meas- 
uring, Tom said; and when the worm approached 
him, of its own accord, he sat as still as a stone, 
with his hopes rising and falling, by turns, as the 
creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to 


I2I 


MARK TWAIN 


go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a pain- 
ful moment with its curved body in the air and then 
came decisively down upon Tom’s leg and began a 
journey over him, his whole heart was glad — ^for 
that meant that he was going to have a new suit of 
clothes — without the shadow of a doubt a gaudy 
piratical imiform. Now a procession of ants ap- 
peared, from nowhere in particular, and went about 
their labors; one struggled manfully by with a dead 
spider five times as big as itself in its arms, and 
lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted 
lady-bug climbed the dizzy height of a grass-blade, 
and Tom bent down close to it and said, “Lady- 
bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on 
fire, your children’s alone,” and she took wing and 
went off to see about it — which did not siirprise the 
boy, for he knew of old that this insect was credu- 
lous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon 
its simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came 
next, heaving sturdily at its ball, and Tom touched 
the creature, to see it shut its legs against its body 
and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly 
rioting by this time. A catbird, the Northern 
mocker, lit in a tree over Tom’s head, and trilled out 
her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of 
enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of 
blue flame, and stopped on a twig almost within the 
boy’s reach, cocked his head to one side and eyed the 
strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel 
and a big fellow of the “fox” kind came scurrying 
along, sitting up at intervals to inspect and chatter 
at the boys, for the wild things had probably never 


122 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

seen a human being before and scarcely knew 
whether to be afraid or not. All Nature was wide 
awake and stirring, now; long lances of sunlight 
pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, 
and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene. 

Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all 
clattered away with a shout, and in a minute or two 
were stripped and chasing after and tumbling over 
each other in the shallow limpid water of the white 
sand-bar. They felt no longing for the little village 
sleeping in the distance beyond the majestic waste of 
water. A vagrant current or a slight rise in the river 
had carried off their raft, but this only gratified 
them, since its going was something like burning 
the bridge between them and civilization. 

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, 
glad-hearted, and ravenous; and they soon had the 
camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found a spring 
of clear cold water close by, and the boys made 
cups of broad oak or hickory leaves, and felt that 
water, sweetened with such a wildwood charm as 
that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. 
While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and 
Huck asked him to hold on a minute; they stepped 
to a promising nook in the river-bank and threw in 
their lines; almost immediately they had reward. 
Joe had not had time to get impatient before they 
were back again with some handsome bass, a couple 
of sun-perch, and a small catfish — ^provisions enough 
for quite a family. They fried the fish with the 
bacon, and were astonished; for no fish had ever 
seemed so delicious before. They did not know that 
123 


MARK TWAIN 


the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he 
is caught the better he is; and they reflected little 
upon what a sauce open-air sleeping, open-air exer- 
cise, bathing, and a large ingredient of hunger 
makes, too. 

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, 
while Huck had a smoke, and then went off through 
the woods on an exploring expedition. They 
tramped gaily along, over decaying logs, through 
tangled underbrush, among solemn monarchs of the 
forest, hung from their crowns to the ground with a 
drooping regalia of grapevines. Now and then they 
came upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and 
jeweled with flowers. 

They found plenty of things to be delighted with, 
but nothing to be astonished at. They discovered 
that the island was about three miles long and a 
quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay 
closest to was only separated from it by a narrow 
channel hardly two hundred yards wide. They took 
a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the 
middle of the afternoon when they got back to 
camp. They were too hungry to stop to fish, but 
they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then 
threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But 
the talk soon began to drag, and then died. The 
stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, 
and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the 
spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort 
of ‘Undefined longing crept upon them. This took 
dim shape, presently — ^it was budding homesickness. 
Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his 
124 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were 
all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave 
enough to speak his thought. 

For some time, now, the boys had been dully 
conscious of a pectdiar sound in the distance, just 
as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which 
he takes no distinct note of. But now this myste- 
rious sound became more pronoimced, and forced 
a recognition. The boys started, glanced at each 
other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. 
There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; 
then a deep, sullen boom came floating down out 
of the distance. 

“What is it!’' exclaimed Joe, under his breath. 

“I wonder,” said Tom in a whisper. 

“’Tain’t thunder,” said Huckleberry, in an awed 
tone, “becuz thunder — ” 

“Hark!” said Tom. “Listen — don’t talk.” 

They waited a time that seemed an age, and then 
the same muffled boom troubled the solemn hush. 

“Let’s go and see.” 

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore 
toward the town. They parted the bushes on the 
bank and peered out over the water. The little 
steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, 
drifting with the current. Her broad deck seemed 
crowded with people. There were a great many 
skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the 
neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could 
not determine what the men in them were doing. 
Presently a great jet of white smoke burst from the 
ferryboat’s side, and as it expanded and rose in a 
52 $ 


MARK TWAIN 


lazy cloud, that same dull throb of sound was borne 
to the listeners again. 

“I know now!’' exclaimed Tom; ‘'somebody’s 
drownded!” 

“That’s it!” said Huck; “they done that last* 
siunmer, when Bill Turner got drownded; they 
shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him 
come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of 
bread and put quicksilver in ’em and set ’em afloat, 
and wherever there’s anybody that’s drownded, 
they’ll float right there and stop.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard about that,” said Joe. “I won- 
der what makes the bread do that.” 

“Oh, it ain’t the bread, so much,” said Tom; 
“I reckon it’s mostly what they say over it before 
they start it out.” 

“But they don’t say anything over it,” said 
Huck. “I’ve seen ’em and they don’t.” 

“Well, that’s fimny,” said Tom. “But maybe 
they say it to themselves. Of course they do. Any- 
body might know that.” 

The other boys agreed that there was reason in 
what Tom said, because an ignorant Itunp of bread, 
uninstructed by an incantation, could not be ex- 
pected to act very intelligently when sent upon an 
errand of such gravity. 

“By jings, I wish I was over there, now,” said Joe^ 

“I do too,” said Huck. “I’d give heaps to know 
who it is.” 

The boys still listened and watched. Presently a 
revealing thought flashed through Tom’s mind, and 
he exclaimed : 


126 


ADVENTURES - OF TOM SAWYER 


“Boys, I know who’s drownded — ^it’s us!” 

They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a 
gorgeous triumph; they were missed; they were 
mourned; hearts were breaking on their account; 
tears were being shed; accusing memories of im- 
kindnesses to these poor lost lads were rising up, 
and imavailing regrets and remorse were being in- 
dulged: and best of all, the departed were the talk 
of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as 
far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned. This 
was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after all. 

As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to 
her accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared. 
The pirates returned to camp. They were jubilant 
with vanity over their new grandeur and the illus- 
trious trouble they were making. They caught fish, 
cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing 
at what the village was thinking and saying about 
them; and the pictures they drew of the public dis- 
tress on their account were gratifying to look upon 
— ^from their point of view. But when the shadows 
of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to 
talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds 
evidently wandering elsewhere. The excitement was 
gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back 
thoughts of certain persons at home who were not 
enjoying this fine froHc as much as they were. 
Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; 
a sigh or two escaped, imawares. By and by Joe 
timidly ventured upon a roundabout “feeler” as 
to how the others might look upon a return to 
civilization — not right now, but — 

127 


MARK TWAIN 


Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being 
tmcommitted as yet, joined in with Tom, and the 
waverer quickly ‘‘explained,” and was glad to get 
out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken- 
hearted homesickness clinging to his garments as he 
could. Mutiny was effectually laid to rest for the 
moment. 

As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and 
presently to snore. Joe followed next. Tom lay 
upon his elbow motionless, for some time, watching 
the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on 
his knees, and went searching among the grass and 
the flickering reflections fltmg by the camp-fire. He 
picked up and inspected several large semicylinders 
of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and Anally 
chose two which seemed to suit him. Then he 
knelt by the Are and painfully wrote something 
upon each of these with his “red keel”; one he 
rolled up and put in his jacket pocket, and the other 
he put in Joe’s hat and removed it to a little dis- 
tance from the owner. And he also put into the hat 
certain school-boy treasures of almost inestimable 
value — among them a lump of chalk, an India- 
rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that kind 
of marbles known as a “sure’nough crystal.” Then 
he tiptoed his way cautiously among the trees 
till he felt that he was out of hearing, and straight- 
way broke into a keen run in the direction of the 
sand-bar. 


CHAPTER XV 


A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water 
of the bar, wading toward the Illinois shore. 
Before the depth reached his middle he was half- 
way over ; the current would permit no more wading, 
now, so he struck out confidently to swim the re- 
maining hundred yards. He swam quartering up- 
stream, but still was swept downward rather faster 
than he had expected. However, he reached the 
shore finally, and drifted along till he found a low 
place and drew himself out. He put his hand on 
his jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and 
then struck through the woods, following the shore, 
with streaming garments. Shortly before ten o’clock 
he came out into an open place opposite the village, 
and saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the 
trees and the high bank. Everything was quiet 
under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, 
watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, 
swam three or four strokes, and climbed into the 
skiff that did ‘‘yawl” duty at the boat’s stem. He 
laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, 
panting. 

Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice 
gave the order to “cast off.” A minute or two 
later the skiff’s head was standing high up, against 
129 


MARK TWAIN 


the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom 
felt happy in his success, for he knew it was the 
boat’s last trip for the night. At the end of a long 
twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and 
Tom slipped overboard and swam ashore in the 
dusk, landing fifty yards down-stream, out of danger 
of possible stragglers. 

He flew along imfrequented alleys, and shortly 
foimd himself at his aunt’s back fence. He climbed 
over, approached the “ell,” and looked in at the 
sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. 
There sat Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper’s 
mother, grouped together, talking. They were by 
the bed, and the bed was between them and the 
door. Tom went to the door and began to softly 
lift the latch; then he pressed gently, and the door 
yielded a crack; he continued pushing cautiously, 
and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he 
might squeeze through on his knees; so he put his 
head through and began, warily. 

“What makes the candle blow so?” said Aimt 
Polly. Tom hurried up. “Why that door’s open, 
I believe. Why of course it is. No end of strange 
things now. Go ’long and shut it, Sid.” 

Tom disappeared imder the bed just in time. He 
lay and “breathed” himself for a time, and then 
crept to where he could almost touch his aunt’s 
foot. 

“But as I was saying,” said Aimt Polly, “he 
wam’t bad, so to say — only misch^^ous. Only 
just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He 
wam’t any more responsible than a colt. He never 
130 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

meant any harm, and he was the best-hearted boy 
that ever was” — ^and she began to cry. 

'Tt was just so with my Joe — always full of his 
devilment, and up to every kind of mischief, but he 
was just as imselfish and kind as he could be — and 
laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for 
taking that cream, never once recollecting that I 
throwed it out myself because it was sour, and I 
never to see him again in this world, never, never,! 
never, poor abused boy!” And Mrs. Harper sobbed 
as if her heart would break. 

‘T hope Tom’s better off where he is,” said Sid, 
“but if he’d been better in some ways — ” 

Tom felt the glare of the old lady’s 
eye, though he could not see it. “Not a word 
against my Tom, now that he’s gone I God ’ll take 
care of him — ^never you trouble yourseM, sir! Oh, 
Mrs. Harper, I don’t know how to give him up! 
I don’t know how to give him up! He was such a 
comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart 
out of me, ’most.” 

“The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away, 
— ^blessed be the name of the Lord! But it’s so 
hard — oh, it’s so hard! Only last Saturday my 
Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I 
knocked him sprawling. Little did I know then 
how soon — Oh, if it was to do over again I’d hug 
him and bless him for it.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. 
Harper, I know just exactly how you feel. No 
longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took and 
filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the 
13 1 


MARK TWAIN 


cretur would tear the house down. And God for- 
give me, I cracked Tom’s head with my thimble, 
poor boy, poor dead boy. But he’s out of all his 
troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him 
say was to reproach — ” 

But this memory was too much for the old lady, 
and she broke entirely down. Tom was snuffling, 
now, himself — and more in pity of himself than 
anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and 
putting in a kindly word for him from time to time. 
He began to have a nobler opinion of himself than 
ever before. Still, he was sufflciently touched by his 
aunt’s grief to long to rush out from under the bed 
and overwhelm her with joy — and the theatrical 
gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to his 
nature, too, but he resisted and lay still. 

He went on listening, and gathered by odds and 
ends that it was conjectured at first that the boys 
had got drowned while taking a swim; then the 
small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said 
the missing lads had promised that the village should 
“hear something” soon; the wise-heads had “put 
this and that together” and decided that the lads 
had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the 
next town below, presently; but toward noon the 
raft had been foimd, lodged against the Missouri 
shore some five or six miles below the village — and 
then hope perished; they must be drowned, else 
hunger would have driven them home by nightfall if 
not sooner. It was believed that the search for the 
bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the 
drowning must have occurred in mid-channel, since 
132 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

the boys, being good swimmers, would otherwise 
have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday night. 
If the bodies continued missing until Simday, all 
hope woiild be given over, and the funerals would 
be preached on that morning. Tom shuddered. 

Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing good night and turned 
to go. Then with a mutual impulse the two be- 
reaved women flung themselves into each other’s 
arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then 
parted. Aunt Polly was tender far beyond her 
wont, in her good night to Sid and Mary. Sid 
snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all 
her heart. 

Aimt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so 
touchingly, so appealingly, and with such measure- 
less love in her words and her old trembling voice, 
that he was weltering in tears again long before she 
was through. 

He had to keep still long after she went to bed, 
for she kept making broken-hearted ejaculations 
from time to time, tossing imrestfully, and turning 
over. But at last she was still, only moaning a 
little in her sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose 
gradually by the bedside, shaded the candlelight 
with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart 
was full of pity for her. He took out his sycamore 
scroll and placed it by the candle. But something 
occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His 
face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; 
he put the bark hastily in his pocket. Then he bent 
over and kissed the faded lips, and straightway made 
his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him. 

10 133 


MARK TWAIN 


He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, 
found nobody at large there, and walked boldly on 
board the boat, for he knew she was tenantless 
except that there was a watchman, who always 
turned in and slept like a graven image. He imtied 
the skiff at the stem, slipped into it, and was soon 
rowing cautiously up-stream. When he had pulled 
a mile above the village, he started quartering across 
and bent himself stoutly to his work. He hit the 
landing on the other side neatly, for this was a 
familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to 
capture the skiff, arguing that it might be considered 
a ship and therefore legitimate prey for a pirate, but 
he knew a thorough search would be made for it 
and that might end in revelations. So he stepped 
ashore and entered the wood. 

He sat down and took a long rest, torturing him- 
self meantime to keep awake, and then started 
warily down the home-stretch. The night was far 
spent. It was broad daylight before he foimd him- 
self fairly abreast the island bar. He rested again 
until the sim was well up and gilding the great 
river with its splendor, and then he pltmged into 
the stream. A little later he paused, dripping, 
upon the threshold of the camp, and heard Joe 
say: 

‘‘No, Tom’s tme-blue, Huck, and he’ll come 
back. He won’t desert. He knows that would be 
a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom’s too proud for that 
sort of thing. He’s up to something or other. 
Now I wonder what?” 

“Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain’t they?” 

134 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


“Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing 
says they are if he ain’t back here to breakfast.” 

“Which he is!” exclaimed Tom, with fine dra- 
matic effect, stepping grandly into camp. 

A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was 
shortly provided, and as the boys set to work upon 
it, Tom recounted (and adorned) his adventures. 
They were a vain and boastful company of heroes 
when the tale was done. Then Tom hid himself 
away in a shady nook to sleep till noon, and the 
other pirates got ready to fish and explore. 


CHAPTER XVI 


^TER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for 



tiirtle eggs on the bar. They went about 
poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a 
soft place they went down on their knees and dug 
with their hands. Sometimes they would take fifty 
or sixty eggs out of one hole. They were perfectly 
roimd white things a trifle smaller than an English 
walnut. They had a famous fried-egg feast that 
night, and another on Friday morning. 

After breakfast they went whooping and prancing 
out on the bar, and chased each other round and 
round, shedding clothes as they went, imtil they 
were naked, and then continued the frolic far away 
up the shoal water of the bar, against the stiff 
current, which latter tripped their legs from tmder 
them from time to time and greatly increased the 
fun. And now and then they stooped in a group 
and splashed water in each other’s faces with 
their palms, gradually approaching each other, with 
averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and 
finally gripping and struggling till the best man 
ducked his neighbor, and then they all went imder 
in a tangle of white legs and arms, and came up 
blowing, sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath 
at one and the same time. 


136 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

When they were well exhausted, they would run 
out and sprawl on the dry, hot sand, and He there 
and cover themselves up with it, and by and by 
break for the water again and go through the original 
performance once more. Finally it occurred to 
them that their naked skin represented flesh-colored 
“tights” very fairly; so they drew a ring in the 
sand and had a circus — with three clowns in it, for 
none would yield this proudest post to his neighbor. 

Next they got their marbles and played “knucks” 
and “ring-taw” and “keeps” till that amusement 
grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another swim, 
but Tom would not venture, because he found that 
in kicking off his trousers he had kicked his string 
of rattlesnake rattles off his ankle, and he wondered 
how he had escaped cramp so long without the pro- 
tection of this mysterious charm. He did not ven- 
ture again until he had found it, and by that time 
the other boys were tired and ready to rest. They 
gradually wandered apart, dropped into the ‘ ‘ dumps,” 
and fell to gazing longingly across the wide river 
to where the village lay drowsing in the sim. Tom 
found himself writing “Becky” in the sand with 
his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with 
himself for his weakness. But he wrote it again, 
nevertheless; he could not help it. He erased it 
once more and then took himself out of temptation 
by driving the other boys together and joining 
them. 

But Joe’s spirits had gone down almost beyond 
resurrection. He was so homesick that he could 
hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay very 
137 


MARK TWAIN 


near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom 
was downhearted, but tried hard not to show it. 
He had a secret which he was not ready to tell, yet, 
but if this mutinous depression was not broken up 
soon, he would have to bring it out. He said, with 
a great show of cheerfulness: 

“I bet there’s been pirates on this island before, 
boys. We’ll explore it again. They’ve hid treas- 
ures here somewhere. How’d you feel to light on a 
rotten chest full of gold and silver — ^hey?” 

But it roused only a faint enthusiasm, which faded 
out, with no reply. Tom tried one or two other 
seductions; but they failed, too. It was discourag- 
ing work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick 
and looking very gloomy. Finally he said: 

“Oh, boys, let’s give it up. I want to go home. 
It’s so lonesome.” 

“Oh, no, Joe, you’ll feel better by and by,” said 
Tom. “Just think of the fishing that’s here.” 

“I don’t care for fishing. I want to go home.” 

“But, Joe, there ain’t such another swimming- 
place anywhere.” 

“Swimming’s no good. I don’t seem to care for 
it, somehow, when there ain’t anybody to say I 
sha’n’t go in. I mean to go home.” 

“Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your 
mother, I reckon.” 

“Yes, I do want to see my mother — and you 
would, too, if you had one. I ain’t any more baby 
than you are.” And Joe snuffled a little. 

“Well, we’ll let the cry-baby go home to his 
mother, won't we Huck? Poor thing — does it want 
138 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

to see its mother? And so it shall. You like it 
here, don't you, Huck? We’ll stay, won’t we?” 

Huck said “Y-e-s” — ^without any heart in it. 

“I’ll never speak to you again as long as I Hve,” 
said Joe, rising. “There now!” And he moved 
moodily away and began to dress himself. 

“Who cares!” said Tom. “Nobody wants you 
to. Go ’long home and get laughed at. Oh, you’re 
a nice pirate. Huck and me ain’t cry-babies. We’ll 
stay, won’t we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. 
I reckon we can get along without him, per’aps.” j 

But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was 
alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing. 
And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying 
Joe’s preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such 
an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting 
word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois 
shore. Tom’s heart began to sink. He glanced at 
Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped 
his eyes. Then he said: 

“I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so 
lonesome anyway, and now it ’ll be worse. Let’s us 
go, too, Tom.” 

“I won’t! You can all go, if you want to. I 
mean to stay.” 

“Tom, I better go.” 

“Well, go ’long — who’s hendering you?” 

Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. H^ 
said: 

“Tom, I wisht you’d come, too. Now you think 
it over. We’ll wait for you when we get to shore.” 

“Well, you’ll wait a blame long time, that’s all.” 

139 


MARK TWAIN 


Hack started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood 
looking after him, with a strong desire tugging at his 
heart to yield his pride and go along too. He hoped 
the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. 
It suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very 
lonely and still. He made one final struggle with 
his pride, and then darted after his comrades, 
yelling : 

'‘Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!” 

They presently stopped and turned around. When 
he got to where they were, he began unfolding his 
secret, and they listened moodily till at last they saw 
the “point” he was driving at, and then they set 
up a war-whoop of applause and said it was “splen- 
did!” and said if he had told them at first, they 
wouldn’t have started away. He made a plausible 
excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that 
not even the secret would keep them with him any 
very great length of time, and so he had meant to 
hold it in reserve as a last seduction. 

The lads came gaily back and went at their sports 
again with a will, chattering all the time about 
Tom’s stupendous plan and admiring the genius of 
it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he 
wanted to learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the 
idea and said he would like to try, too. So Huck 
made pipes and filled them. These novices had 
never smoked anything before but cigars made of 
grapevine, and they “bit” the tongue, and were not 
considered manly anyway. 

Now they stretched themselves out on their 
elbows and began to puff, charily, and with slender 
140 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

confidence. The smoke had an impleasant taste, 
and the}^' gagged a little, but Tom said: 

‘‘Why, it’s just as easy! If I’d ’a’ knowed this 
was all, I’d ’a’ leamt long ago.” 

“So would I,” said Joe. “It’s just nothing.” 

“Why, many a time I’ve looked at people smoking, 
and thought well I wish I could do that; but I 
never thought I could,” said Tom. 

“That’s just the way with me, hain’t it, Huck? 
You’ve heard me talk just that way — ^haven’t you, 
Huck? I’ll leave it to Huck if I haven’t.” 

“Yes — Cheaps of times,” said Huck. 

“Well, I have too,” said Tom; “oh, hundreds 
of times. Once down by the slaughter-house. 
Don’t you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was 
there, and Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when 
I said it. Don’t you remember, Huck, ’bout me 
saying that?” 

“Yes, that’s so,” said Huck. “That was the 
day after I lost a white alley. No, ’twas the day 
before.” 

“There — I told you so,” said Tom. “Huck 
recollects it.” 

“I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day,” said 
Joe. “I don’t feel sick.” 

“Neither do I,” said Tom. “7 could smoke it 
all day. But I bet you Jeff Thatcher couldn’t.” 

“Jeff Thatcher! Why, he’d keel over just with 
two draws. Just let him try it once. He'd see!” 

“I bet he would. And Johnny Miller — I wish 
I could see Johnny Miller tackle it once.” 

“Oh, don’t ir said Joe. “Why, I bet you 

I4I 


MARK TWAIN 


Johnny Miller couldn’t any more do this than 
nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch him.'* 

“’Deed it would, Joe. Say — I wish the boys 
could see us now.” 

“So do I.” 

“Say — ^boys, don’t say anything about it, and 
some time when they’re aroimd. I’ll come up to 
you and say, ‘Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.’ 
And you’ll say, kind of careless Hke, as if it wam’t 
anything, you’ll say, ‘Yes, I got my old pipe, and 
another one, but my tobacker ain’t very good.’ 
And I’ll say, ‘Oh, that’s all right, if it’s strong 
enough.’ And then you’ll out with the pipes, and 
we’ll light up just as ca’m, and then just see ’em 
look!” 

“By jings, that ’ll be gay, Tom! I wish it was 
now!” 

“So do I! And when we tell ’em we learned 
when we was off pirating, won’t they wish they’d 
been along?” 

“Oh, I reckon not! I’ll just het they will!” 

So the talk ran on. But presently it began to 
flag a trifle, and grow disjointed. The silences 
widened; the expectoration marvelously increased. 
Every pore inside the boys’ cheeks became a spout- 
ing foimtain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars 
under their tongues fast enough to prevent an imm- 
dation; little overflowings down their throats oc- 
ctured in spite of all they could do, and sudden 
retchings followed every time. Both boys were 
looking very pale and miserable, now. Joe’s pipe 
dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom’s followed. 

142 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps 
bailing with might and main. Joe said feebly: 

'TVe lost my knife. I reckon I better go and 
find it.'* 

Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utter- 
ance: 

“Til help you. You go over that way and I’ll 
hunt around by the spring. No, you needn’t come, 
Huck — we can find it.” 

So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. 
Then he fotmd it lonesome, and went to find his 
comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, 
both very pale, both fast asleep. But something 
informed him that if they had had any trouble they 
had got rid of it. 

They were not talkative at supper that night. 
They had a humble look, and when Huck prepared 
his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare 
theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well — - 
something they ate at dinner had disagreed with 
them. 

About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. 
There was a brooding oppressiveness in the air that 
seemed to bode something. The boys huddled 
themselves together and sought the friendly com- 
panionship of the fire, though the dull dead heat of 
the breathless atmosphere was stifling. They sat 
still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush con- 
tinued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was 
swallowed up in the blackness of darkness. Presently 
there came a quivering glow that vaguely revealed 
the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By 
143 


MARK TWAIN 


and by another came, a little stronger. Then 
another. Then a faint moan came sighing through 
the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleet- 
ing breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with 
the fancy that the Spirit of the Night had gone by. 
There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned night 
into day and showed every little grass-blade, separate 
and distinct, that grew about their feet. And it 
showed three white, startled faces, too. A deep 
peal of thimder went rolling and tumbhng down the 
heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the 
distance. A sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling 
all the leaves and snowing the flaky ashes broadcast 
about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the forest, 
and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend 
the treetops right over the boys* heads. They 
dung together in terror, in the thick gloom that 
followed. A few big raindrops fell pattering upon 
the leav'es. 

'‘Quick, boys! go for the tent!** exclaimed Tom. 

They sprang away, stiunbling over roots and 
among vines in the dark, no two plimging in the 
same direction. A ftuious blast roared through the 
trees, making everything sing as it went. One 
blinding flash after another came, and peal on peal 
of deafening thimder. And now a drenching rain 
poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in 
sheets along the ground. The boys cried out to 
each other, but the roaring wind and the booming 
thimderblasts drowned their voices utterly. How- 
ever, one by one they straggled in at last and took 
shelter under the tent, cold, scared, and streaming 
144 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 


with water; but to have company in misery seemed 
something to be grateful for. They could not talk, 
the old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other 
noises would have allowed them. ' The tempest rose 
higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose 
from its fastenings and went winging away on the 
blast. The boys seized each other’s hands and fled, 
with many tumblings and bruises, to the shelter of a 
great oak that stood upon the river-bank. Now the 
battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless con- 
flagration of lightning that flamed in the skies, 
everything below stood out in clean-cut and shadow- 
less distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy 
river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume- 
flakes, the dim outlines of the high bluffs on the 
other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloud-rack 
and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while 
some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing 
through the younger growth; and the unflagging 
thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting explosive 
bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. 
The storm culminated in one matchless effort that 
seemed likely to tear the island to pieces, btun it 
up, drown it to the treetops, blow it away, and 
deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same 
moment. It was a wild night for homeless young 
heads to be out in. 

But at last the battle was done, and the forces 
retired with weaker and weaker threatenings and 
grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The 
boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but 
they found there was still something to be thankful 
145 


MARK TWAIN 


for, because the great sycamore, the shelter of their 
beds, was a ruin now, blasted by the lightnings, 
and they were not imder it when the catastrophe 
happened. 

Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire 
as well; for they were but heedless lads, like their 
generation, and had made no provision against rain. 
Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked 
through and chilled. They were eloquent in their 
distress; but they presently discovered that the fire 
had eaten so far up under the great log it had been 
built against (where it curved upward and separated 
itself from the groimd), that a handbreadth or so of 
it had escaped wetting; so they patiently wrought 
until, with shreds and bark gathered from the imder 
sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to bum 
again. Then they piled on great dead boughs till 
they had a roaring furnace, and were glad-hearted 
once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a 
feast, and after that they sat by the fire and ex- 
panded and glorified their midnight adventure until 
morning, for there was not a dry spot to sleep on, 
anywhere around. 

As the sun began to steal in upon the boy^, 
drowsiness came over them and they went out on 
the sand-bar and lay down to sleep. They got 
scorched out by and by, and drearily set about 
getting breakfast. After the meal they felt msty, and 
stiff -jointed, and a Httle homesick once more! Tom 
saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as 
Well as he could. But they cared nothing for mar- 
bles, or circus, or swimming, or anything. He re- 

id6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

minded them of the imposing secret, and raised a 
ray of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested 
in a new device. This was to knock off being 
pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a change. 
They were attracted by this idea ; so it was not long 
before they were stripped, and striped from head to 
heel with black mud, like so many zebras — all of 
them chiefs, of course — and then they went tearing 
through the woods to attack an English settlement. 

By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, 
and darted upon each other from ambush with 
dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalped each 
other by thousands. It was a gory day. Conse- 
quently it was an extremely satisfactory one. 

They assembled in camp toward supper -time, 
hungry and happy; but now a difficulty arose — • 
hostile Indians could not break the bread of hospi- 
tality together without first making peace, and this 
was a simple impossibility without smoking a pipe of 
peace. There was no other process that ever they 
had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished 
they had remained pirates. However, there was no 
other way; so with such show of cheerfulness as 
they could muster they called for the pipe and took 
their whiff as it passed, in due form. 

And behold, they were glad they had gone into 
savagery, for they had gained something; they 
fotmd that they could now smoke a little without 
having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not 
get sick enough to be seriously uncomfortable. 
They were not likely to fool away this high promise 
for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously. 


MARK TWAIN 


after supper, with right fair success, and so they 
spent a jubilant evening. They were prouder and 
happier in their new acquirement than they would 
have been in the scalping and skinning of the Six 
Nation^ We will leave them to smoke and chatter 
and brag, since we have no further use for them at 
present. 


CHAPTER XVn 


B ut there was no hilarity in the little town that 
same tranqiiil Saturday afternoon. The Har- 
pers, and Aimt Polly’s family, were being put into 
motiming, with great grief and many tears. An 
unusual quiet possessed the village, although it was 
ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The vil- 
lagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, 
and talked little; but they sighed often. The 
Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. 
They had no heart in their sports, and gradually 
gave them up. 

In the afternoon Becky Thatcher foimd herself 
moping about the deserted school-house yard, and 
feeling very melancholy. But she found nothing 
there to comfort her. She soliloquized: 

“Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! 
But I haven’t got anything now to remember him 
by.” And she choked back a little sob. 

Presently she stopped, and said to herself: 

“It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over 
again, I wouldn’t say that — I wotddn’t say it for the 
whole world. But he’s gone now; I’ll never never 
never see him any more.” 

This thought broke her down and she wandered 
away, with the tears rolling down her cheeks. Then 


MARK TWAIN 


quite a group of boys and girls — playmates of 
Tom*s and Joe’s — came by, and stood looking over 
the paling fence and talking in reverent tones of how 
Tom did so-and-so, the last time they saw him, and 
how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with 
awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!) — 
and each speaker pointed out the exact spot where 
the lost lads stood at the time, and then added some- 
thing like “and I was a-standing just so — ^just as 
I am now, and as if you was him — I was as close 
as that — ^and he smiled, just this way — and then 
something seemed to go all over me, like — awful, 
you "know — and I never thought what it meant, of 
course, but I can see now!” 

Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead 
boys last in life, many claimed that dismal dis- 
tinction, and offered evidences, more or less tampered 
with by the witness; and when it was ultimately de- 
cided who did see the departed last, and exchanged 
the last words with them, the lucky parties took 
upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and 
were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One 
poor chap, who had no other grandeur to offer, said 
with tolerably manifest pride in the remembrance: 

“Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once.” 

But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the 
boys could say that, and so that cheapened the 
distinction too much. The group loitered away, 
still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed 
voices. 

When the Stmday-school hour was finished, the 
next morning, the bell began to toll, instead of ring- 
150 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

ing in the usual way. It was a very stiU Sabbath, 
and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the 
musing hush that lay upon nature. The villagers 
began to gather, loitering a moment in the vestibule 
to converse in whispers about the sad event. But 
there was no whispering in the house; only the 
funereal rustling of dresses as the women gathered to 
their seats disturbed the silence there. None could 
remember when the little church had been so full 
before. There was finally a waiting pause, an ex- 
pectant dtimbness, and then Aimt Polly entered, fol- 
lowed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harpei 
family, all in deep black, and the whole congrega- 
tion, the old minister as well, rose reverently and 
stood, until the motuners were seated in the front 
pew. There was another communing silence, broken 
at intervals by muffled sobs, and then the minister 
spread his hands abroad and prayed. A moving 
hymn was simg, and the text followed: ‘T am the 
Resiurection and the Life.’' 

As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew 
such pictures of the graces, the winning ways, and 
the rare promise of the lost lads, that every soul 
there, thinking he recognized these pictiues, felt a 
pang in remembering that he had persistently blinded 
himself to them always before, and had as persist- 
ently seen only faults and flaws in the poor boys. 
The minister related many a touching incident in the 
lives of the departed, too, which illustrated their 
sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily 
see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes 
were, and remembered with grief that at the time 

151 


MARK TWAIN 


they occurred they had seemed rank rascalities, well 
deserving of the cowhide. The congregation became 
more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, 
till at last the whole company broke down and joined 
the weeping mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, 
the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and 
crying in the pulpit. 

There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody 
noticed; a moment later the church door creaked; 
the minister raised his streaming eyes above his 
handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and 
then another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and 
then almost with one impulse the congregation rose 
and stared while the three dead boys came marching 
up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, 
a ruin of drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the 
rear! They had been hid in the unused gallery 
listening to their own fimeral sermon! 

Aimt PoUy, Mary, and the Harpers threw them- 
selves upon their restored ones, smothered them with 
kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while poor 
Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing 
exactly what to do or where to hide from so many 
unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and started to 
slink away, but Tom seized him and said : 

“Aunt PoUy, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be 
glad to see Huck." 

“And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor 
motherless thing !" And the loving attentions Aimt 
Polly lavished upon him were the one thing capable 
of making him more uncomfortable than he was 
before. 

152 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his 
voice: ‘‘Praise God from whom all blessings flow 
— Sing! — and put your hearts in it!*' 

And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a 
triumphant burst, and while it shook the rafters 
Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the 
envying juveniles about him and confessed in his 
heart that this was the proudest moment of his life. 

As the “sold” congregation trooped out they said 
they would almost be willing to be made ridiculous 
again to hear Old Hundred sung Hke that once more. 

Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day — accord- 
ing to Aunt Polly’s varying moods-^than he had 
earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which 
expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection 
for himself. 


CHAPTER XVni 


T hat was Tom’s great secret — ^the scheme to re- 
turn home with his brother pirates and attend 
their own fimerals. They had paddled over to the 
Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, land- 
ing five or six miles below the village; they had slept 
in the woods at the edge of the town till nearly day- 
light, and had then crept through back lanes and 
alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the 
chmch among a chaos of invalided benches. 

At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and 
Mary were very loving to Tom, and very attentive 
to his wants. There was an unusual amoimt of talk. 
In the coturse of it Aimt Polly said: 

“Well, I don’t say it wasn’t a fine joke, Tom, to 
keep everybody suffering ’most a week so you boys 
had a good time, but it is a pity you could be so 
hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could 
come over on a log to go to your funeral, you coiild 
have come over and give me a hint some way that 
you wam’t dead, but only nm off.” 

“Yes, you could have done that, Tom,” said 
Mary; “and I believe you would if you had thought 
of it.” 

“Would you, Tom?” said Aimt PoUy, her face 
lightiag wistfully. “Say, now, would you, if you’d 
thought of it?” 


154 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘T — well, I don’t know. ’Twould ’a’ spoiled 
everything.” 

‘‘Tom, I hoped you loved me that much,” said 
Aimt Polly, with a grieved tone that discomforted 
the boy. “It would have been something if you’d 
cared enough to think of it, even if you didn’t do 
it.” 

“Now, aimtie, that ain’t any harm,” pleaded 
Mary; “it’s only Tom’s giddy way — ^he is always 
in such a rush that he never thinks of anything.” 

“More’s the pity. Sid would have thought. 
And Sid would have come and done it, too. Tom, 
you’ll look back, some day, when it’s too late, and 
wish you’d cared a little more for me when it would 
have cost you so Httle.” 

“Now, aimtie, you know I do care for you,” said 
Tom. 

“I’d know it better if you acted more like it.” 

“I wish now I’d thought,” said Tom, with a 
repentant tone; “but I dreamed about you, anyway. 
That’s something, ain’t it?” 

“It ain’t much — a cat does that much — but it’s 
better than nothing. What did you dream?” 

“Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was 
sitting over there by the bed, and Sid was sitting 
by the woodbox, and Mary next to him.” 

“Weh, so we did. So we always do. I’m glad 
your dreams could take even that much trouble 
about us.” 

“And I dreamt that Joe Harper’s mother was 
here.” 

‘ ‘ Why, she was here ! Did you dream any more ?” 

155 


MARK TWAIN 


‘'Oh, lots. But it’s so dim, now.” 

“Well, try to recollect — can’t you?” 

“Somehow it seems to me that the wind — ^the 
wind bio wed the — the — ” 

“Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow some- 
thing. Come!” 

Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious 
minute, and then said: 

“I’ve got it now! I’ve got it now! It bio wed 
the candle!” 

“Mercy on us! Go on, Tom — go on!” 

“And it seems to me that you said, ‘Why, I be- 
lieve that that door — ’” 

“Go on, Tom!” 

“Just let me study a moment — just a moment. 
Oh, yes — ^you said you believed the door was open.” 

“As I’m sitting here, I did! Didn’t I, Mary! 
Go on!” 

“And then — and then — well I won’t be certain, 
but it seems like as if you made Sid go and — and — ” 

“Well? W^ell? What did I make him do, Tom? 
What did I make him do?” 

“You made him — you — Oh, you made him 
shut it.” 

“Well, for the land’s sake! I never heard the 
beat of that in all my days! Don’t tell me there 
ain’t anything in dreams, any more. Sereny Harper 
shall know of this before I’m an hour older. I’d 
like to see her get around this with her rubbage ’bout 
superstition. Go on, Tom!” 

“Oh, it’s all getting just as bright as day, now. 
Next you said I wam’t bad, only mischeevous and 
ik6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

harum-scarum, and not any more responsible than 
— than — I think it was a colt, or something/’ 

“And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go 
on, Tom!” 

“And then you began to cry.” 

“So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. 
And then—” 

“Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said 
Joe was just the same, and she wished she hadn’t 
whipped him for taking cream when she’d throwed 
it out her own self — ” 

“Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was 
a-prophes3dng — that’s what you was doing! Land 
alive, go on, Tom!” 

“Then Sid he said — ^he said — ” 

“I don’t think I said anything,” said Sid. 

“Yes you did, Sid,” said Mary. 

“Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did 
he say, Tom?” 

“He said — I think he said he hoped I was better 
off where I was gone to, but if I’d been better some- 
times — ” 

‘ ‘ There, d’you hear that ! It was his very words !” 

“And you shut him up sharp.” 

“I lay I did! There must ’a’ been an angel there. 
There was an angel there, somewheres!” 

“And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her 
with a firecracker, and you told about Peter and the 
Pain-kiUer — ” 

“Just as true as I live!” 

“And then there was a whole lot of talk ’bout 
dragging the river for us, and ’bout having the 

157 


MARK TWAIN 


funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss Harper 
hugged and cried, and she went.’\ 

‘Tt happened just sol It happened just so, as 
sure as I’m a-sitting in these very tracks. Tom, you 
couldn’t told it more like, if you’d ’a’ seen it! And 
then what? Go on, Tom!” 

“Then I thought you prayed for me — and I could 
see you and hear every word you said. And you 
went to bed, and I was so sorry, that I took and 
wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead 
— we are only off being pirates' and put it on the 
table by the candle; and then you looked so good, 
laying there asleep, that I thought I went and 
leaned over and kissed you on the lips.” 

“Did you, Tom, did you! I just forgive you 
everything for that!” And she seized the boy in 
a crushing embrace that made him feel like the 
guiltiest of villains. 

“It was very kind, even though it was only a — 
dream,” Sid soliloquized just audibly. 

“Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a 
dream as he’d do if he was awake. Here’s a big 
Milum apple I’ve been saving for you, Tom, if you 
was ever found again — ^now go ’long to school. 
I’m thankful to the good God and Father of us all 
I’ve got you back, that’s long-suffering and merciful 
to them that believe on Him and keep His word, 
though goodness knows I’m imworthy of it, but if 
only the worthy ones got His blessings and had His 
hand to help them over the rough places, there’s 
few enough would smile here or ever enter into His 
rest when the long night comes. Go ’long, Sid, Mary, 
158 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


Tom — ^take yourselves off — ^you’ve hendered me long 
enough.” 

The children left for school, and the old lady to 
call on Mrs. Harper and vanquish her realism with 
Tom’s marvelous dream. Sid had better judgment 
than to utter the thought that was in his mind as 
he left the house. It was this : ' ‘ Pretty thin — as long 
a dream as that, without any mistakes in it!” 

What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not 
go skipping and prancing, but moved with a digni- 
fied swagger as became a pirate who felt that the 
pubhc eye was on him. And indeed it was ; he tried 
not to seem to see the looks or hear the remarks as 
he passed along, but they were food and drink to 
him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his 
heels, as proud to be seen with him, and tolerated 
by him, as if he had been the dnunmer at the head 
of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie 
into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to 
know he had been away at all; but they were con- 
suming with envy, nevertheless. They would have 
given anything to have that swarthy, sun-tanned 
skin of his, and his glittering notoriety; and Tom 
would not have parted with either for a circus. 

At school the children made so much of him and 
ctf Joe, and delivered such eloquent admiration from 
their eyes, that the two heroes were not long in be- 
coming insufferably stuck up.” They began to 
tell their adventures to himgry listeners — ^but they 
only began ; it was not a thing likely to have an end, 
with imaginations like theirs to furnish material. 
And finally, when they got out their pipes and went 
159 


MARK TWAIN 

serenely puffing around, the very summit df glory 
was reached. 

Tom decided that he could be independent of 
Becky Thatcher now. Glory was sufficient. He 
would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished, 
maybe she would be wanting to “make up.” Well, 
let her — she should see that he could be as indiffer- 
ent as some other people. Presently she arrived. 
Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away 
and joined a group of boys and girls and began to 
talk. Soon he observed that she was tripping gaily 
back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, 
pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and 
screaming with laughter when she made a capture; 
but he noticed that she always made her captures 
in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a con- 
scious eye in his direction at such times, too. It 
gratified all the vicious vanity that was in him; and 
so, instead of winning him, it only “set him up” 
the more and made him the more diligent to avoid 
betraying that he knew she was about. Presently 
she gave over skylarking, and moved irresolutely 
about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively 
and wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that 
now Tom was talking more particularly to Amy 
Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp 
pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She 
tried to go away, but her feet were treacherous, and 
carried her to the group instead. She said to a girl 
almost at Tom’s elbow — ^with sham vivacity: 

“Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn’t 
you come to Simday-school?” 

i6o 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

*T did come — didn’t you see me?” 

**Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?” 

*T was in Miss Peters’s class, where I always go. 
I saw you^ 

“Did you? Why, it’s funny I didn’t see you. I 
wanted to tell you about the picnic.” 

“Oh, that’s jolly. Who’s going to give it?” 

“My ma’s going to let me have one.” 

“Oh, goody; I hope she’ll let me come.” 

“Well, she will. The picnic’s for me. She’ll let 
anybody come that I want, and I want you.” 

“That’s ever so nice. When is it going to be?” 

“By and by. Maybe about vacation.” 

“Oh, won’t it be fun! You going to have all the 
girls and boys?” 

“Yes, every one that’s friends to me — or wants 
to be”; and she glanced ever so furtively at Tom., 
but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence about 
the terrible storm on the island, and how the light- 
ning tore the great sycamore tree “all to flinders” 
while he was “standing within three feet of it.’* 

“Oh, may I come?” said Gracie Miller. 

“Yes.” 

“And me?” said Sally Rogers. 

“Yes.” 

“And me, too?” said Susy Harper. “And Joe?” 

“Yes.” 

And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all 
the group had begged for invitations but Tom and 
Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still talking, 
and took Amy with him. Becky’s lips trembled and 
the tears came to her eyes ; she hid these signs with 

i6i 


MARK TWAIN 


a forced gaiety and went on chattering, but the life 
had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of every- 
thing else; she got away as soon as she could and 
hid herself and had what her sex call “a good cry.” 
Then she sat moody, with wounded pride, till the 
bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive 
cast in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake 
and said she knew what she'd do. 

At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy 
with jubilant self-satisfaction. And he kept drifting 
about to find Becky and lacerate her with the per- 
formance. At last he spied her, but there was a 
sudden falling of his mercury. She was sitting 
cozily on a little bench behind the school-house look- 
ing at a pictture-book with Alfred Temple — and so 
absorbed were they, and their heads so close together 
over the book, that they did not seem to be con- 
scious of anything in the world besides. Jealousy 
ran red-hot through Tom’s veins. He began to 
hate himself for throwing away the chance Becky 
had offered for a reconciliation. He called himself 
a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. 
He wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted 
happily along, as they wallced, for her heart was 
singing, but Tom’s tongue had lost its function. 
He did not hear what Amy was saying, and when- 
ever she paused expectantly he could only stammer 
an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as 
otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the 
school-house, again and again, to sear his eyeballs 
with the hateful spectacle there. He could not help 
it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he 
162 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

saw, that Becky Thatcher never once suspected that 
he was even in the land of the living. But she did 
see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning 
her fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she 
had suffered. 

Amy’s happy prattle became intolerable. Tom 
hinted at things he had to attend to; things that 
must be done; and time was fleeting. But in vain 
• — ^the girl chirped on. Tom thought, “Oh, hang 
her, ain’t I ever going to get rid of her?” At last 
he must be attending to those things — ^and she said 
artlessly that she would be “around” when school 
let out. And he hastened away, hating her for it. 

“Any other boy!” Tom thought, grating his 
teeth. “Any boy in the whole town but that Saint 
Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is 
aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first 
day you ever saw this town, mister, and I’ll lick you 
again! You just wait till I catch you out! I’ll 
just take and — ” 

And he went through the motions of thrashing an 
imaginary boy — ^pummelmg the air, and kicking 
and gouging. “Oh, you do, do you? You holler 
’nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!” 
And so the imaginary flogging was finished to his 
satisfaction. 

Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could 
not endure any more of Amy’s grateful happiness, 
and his jealousy could bear no more of the other 
distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with 
Alfred, but as the minutes dragged along and no 
Tom came to suffer, her triumph began to cloud and 
163 


MARK TWAIN 


she lost interest ; gravity and absent-mindedness fol- 
lowed, and then melancholy; two or three times she 
pricked up her ear at a footstep, but it was a false 
hope; no Tom came. At last she grew entirely 
miserable and wished she hadn’t carried it so far. 
When poor Alfred, seeing that he wa£ losing her, 
he did not know how, kept exclaiming: '‘Oh, here’s 
a jolly one! look at this!” she lost patience at last, 
and said, “Oh, don’t bother me! I don’t care for 
them!” and biurst into tears, and got up and walked 
away. 

Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to 
comfort her, but she said : 

“Go away and leave me alone, can’t you! I hate 
you!” 

So the boy halted, wondering what he could have 
done — ^for she had said she would look at pictures 
all through the nooning — and she walked on, crying. 
Then Alfred went musing into the deserted school- 
house. He was humiliated and angry. He easily 
guessed his way to the truth — the girl had simply 
made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon 
Tom Sawyer. He was far from hating Tom the 
less when this thought occiured to him. He wished 
there was some way to get that boy into trouble 
without much risk to himself. Tom’s spelling-book 
fell imder his eye. Here was his opportunity. He 
gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and 
poured ink upon the page. 

Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at 
the moment, saw the act, and moved on, without 
discovering herself. She started homeward, now, 
164 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be 
thankful and their troubles would be healed. Before 
she was half-way home, however, she had changed 
her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her 
when she was talking about her picnic came scorch- 
ing back and filled her with shame. She resolved 
to let him get whipped on the damaged spelling- 
book’s account, and to hate him forever, into the 
bargain. 


12 


CHAPTER XIX 


'T'OM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the 
1 first thing his aunt said to him showed him that 
he had brought his sorrows to an impromising 
market : 

‘‘Tom, I’ve a notion to skin you alive!” 

“Aimtie, what have I done?” 

“Well, you’ve done enough. Here I go over to 
Sereny Harper, like an old softy, expecting I’m going 
to make her believe all that rubbage about that 
dream, when lo and behold you she’d found out 
from Joe that you was over here and heard all the 
talk we had that night. Tom, I don’t know what 
is to become of a boy that will act like that. It 
makes me feel so bad to think you could let me go 
to Sereny Harper and make such a fool of myself 
and never say a word.” 

This was a new aspect of the thing. His smart- 
ness of the morning had seemed to Tom a good 
joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked 
mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could 
not think of anything to say for a moment. Then 
he said : 

“Aimtie, I wish I hadn’t done it — ^but I didn’t 
think.” 

“Oh, child, you never think. You never think 

i66 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

of anything but your own selfishness. You could 
think to come all the way over here from Jackson’s 
Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you 
could think to fool me with a lie about a dream; but 
you couldn’t ever think to pity us and save us from 
sorrow.” 

‘"Aimtie, I know now it was mean, but I didn’t 
mean to be mean. I didn’t, honest. And besides, 
I didn’t come over here to laugh at you that night.” 

“What did you come for, then?” 

“It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, 
because we hadn’t got drownded.” 

“Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfulest soul in 
this world if I could believe you ever had as good 
a thought as that, but you know you never did — 
and I know it, Tom.” 

“Indeed and ’deed I did, aimtie — I wish I may 
never stir if I didn’t.” 

“Oh, Tom, don’t lie — don’t do it. It only makes 
things a hundred times worse.” 

“It ain’t a lie, auntie, it’s the truth. I wanted 
to keep you from grieving — ^that was all that made 
me come.” 

“I’d give the whole world to believe that — ^it 
would cover up a power of sins, Tom. I’d ’most be 
glad you’d run off and acted so bad. But it ain’t 
reasonable; because, why didn’t you tell me, child?” 

“Why, you see, when you got to talking about 
the fimeral, I just got all full of the idea of our com- 
ing and hiding in the chturch, and I couldn’t some- 
how bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in 
my pocket and kept mum.” 

167 


MARK TWAIN 


‘‘What bark?’^ 

“The bark I had wrote on to tell you we’d gone 
pirating. I wish, now, you’d waked up when I 
kissed you — I do, honest.” 

The hard lines in his aunt’s face relaxed and a 
sudden tenderness dawned in her eyes. 

*'Did you kiss me, Tom?” 

“Why, yes, I did.” 

“Are you sure you did, Tom?” 

“Why, yes, I did, aimtie — certain sure.” 

“What did you kiss me for, *Tom?” 

“Because I loved you so, and you laid there 
moaning and I was so sorry.” 

The words sounded like truth. The old lady could 
not hide a tremor in her voice when she said: 

“Kiss me again, Tom! — and be off with you to 
school, now, and don’t bother me any more.” 

The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and 
got out the ruin of a jacket which Tom had gone 
pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her hand, 
and said to herself: 

“No, I don’t dare. Poor boy, I reckon he’s lied 
about it — ^but it’s a blessed, blessed lie, there’s 
such a comfort come from it. I hope the Lord — I 
know the Lord will forgive him, because it was such 
goodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don’t want 
to find out it’s a lie. I won’t look.” 

She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a 
minute. Twice she put out her hand to take the 
garment again, and twice she refrained. Once more 
she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with 
the thought: “It’s a good lie — ^it’s a good lie — I 

i68 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


won’t let it grieve me.” So she sought the jacket 
pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom’s 
piece of bark through flowing tears and saying: ‘T 
could forgive the boy, now, if he’d committed a 
million sins!” 


CHAPTER XX 


T here was something about Aunt Polly’s man- 
ner, when she kissed Tom, that swept away liis 
low spirits and made him light-hearted and happy 
again. He started to school and had the luck of 
coming upon Becky Thatcher at the head of Meadow 
Lane. His mood always determined his manner. 
Without a moment’s hesitation he ran to her and 
said: 

“I acted mighty mean to-day, Becky, and I’m so 
sorry. I won’t ever, ever do that way again, as long 
as ever I live — ^please make up, won’t you?” 

The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the 
face: 

‘‘I’ll thank you to keep yomself to yourself, Mr. 
Thomas Sawyer. I’ll never speak to you again.” 

She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so 
stimned that he had not even presence of mind 
enough to say “Who cares. Miss Smarty?” imtil 
the right time to say it had gone by. So he said 
nothing. But he was in a fine rage, nevertheless. 
He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were a 
boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she 
were. He presently encoimtered her and delivered 
a stinging remark as he passed. She hurled one in 
return, and the angry breach was complete. It 
170 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

seemed to Becky, in her hot resentment, that she 
could hardly wait for school to “take in,” she was so 
impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured spelling- 
book. If she had had any lingering notion of ex- 
posing Alfred Temple, Tom’s offensive fling had 
driven it entirely away. 

Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was 
nearing trouble herself. The master, Mr. Dobbins, 
had reached middle age with an imsatisfled ambition. 
The darling of his desires was to be a doctor, but 
poverty had decreed that he should be nothing 
higher than a village schoolmaster. Every day he 
took a mysterious book out of his desk and absorbed 
himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. 
He kept that book under lock and key. There was 
not an urchin in school but was perishing to have a 
glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every 
boy and girl had a theory about the nature of that 
book; but no two theories were alike, and there was 
no way of getting at the facts in the case. Now, as 
Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near 
the door, she noticed that the key was in the lock! 
It was a precious moment. She glanced around; 
foimd herself alone, and the next instant she had 
the book in her hands. The title-page — Professor 
Somebody’s Anatomy — carried no information to 
her mind; so she began to turn the leaves. She 
came at once upon a handsomely engraved and 
colored frontispiece — a human figure, stark naked. 
At that moment a shadow fell on the page and Tom 
Sawyer stepped in at the door, and caught a glimpse 
of the picture. Becky snatched at the book to close 
171 


MARK TWAIN 


it, and had the hard luck to tear the pictured plate 
half down the middle. She thrust the volume into 
the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying with 
shame and vexation. 

“Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can 
be, to sneak up on a person and look at what they’re 
looking at.” 

“How could I know you was looking at any- 
thing?” 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom 
Sawyer; you know you’re going to tell on me, and 
oh, what shall I do, what shall I do ! I’ll be whipped, 
and I never was whipped in school.” 

Then she stamped her Httle foot and said : 

so mean if you want to! I know something 
that’s going to happen. You just wait and you’ll 
see! Hateful, hateful, hateful!” — ^and she flimg out 
of the house with a new explosion of crying. 

Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. 
Presently he said to himself: 

“What a curious kind of a fool a girl is. Never 
been licked in school! Shucks. What’s a licking! 
That’s just like a girl — they’re so thin-skinned and 
chicken-hearted. Well, of course I ain’t going to 
tell old Dobbins on this little fool, because there’s 
other ways of getting even on her that ain’t so 
mean; but what of it? Old Dobbins will ask who 
it was tore his book. Nobody ’ll answer. Then 
he’ll do just the way he always does — ask first one 
and then t’other, and when he comes to the right 
girl he’ll know it, without any telling. Girls’ faces 
always tell on them. They ain’t got any backbone. 

172 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

She’ll get licked. Well, it’s a kind of a tight place 
for Becky Thatcher, because there ain’t any way out 
of it.” Tom conned the thing a moment longer 
and then added: “All right, though; she’d like to 
see me in just such a fix — ^let her sweat it out!” 

Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars out- 
side. In a few moments the master arrived and 
school “took in.” Tom did not feel a strong interest 
in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at 
the girls’ side of the room Becky’s face troubled 
him. Considering all things, he did not want to 
pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. 
He could get up no exultation that was really 
worthy the name. Presently the spelling-book dis- 
covery was made, and Tom’s mind was entirely full 
of his own matters for a while after that. Becky 
roused up from her lethargy of distress and showed 
good interest in the proceedings. She did not ex- 
pect that Tom could get out of his trouble by 
denying that he spilt the ink on the book himself; 
and she was right. The denial only seemed to make 
the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she 
would be glad of that, and she tried to believe she 
was glad of it, but she found she was not certain. 
When the worst came to the worst, she had an im- 
pulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she 
made an effort and forced herself to keep stiU — 
because, said she to herself, “he’ll tell about me 
tearing the picture sure. I wouldn’t say a word, 
not to save his life!” 

Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat 
not at all broken-hearted, for he thought it was oos- 

173 


MARK TWAIN 


sible that he had unknowingly upset the ink on the 
spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout — ^he 
had denied it for form’s sake and because it 'was 
custom, and had stuck to the denial from principle. 

A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding 
in his throne, the air was drowsy 'with the hum of 
study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened him- 
self up, ya'wned, then iinlocked his desk, and reached 
for his book, but seemed undecided whether to take 
it out or leave it. Most of the pupils glanced up 
languidly, but there were two among them that 
watched his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dob- 
bins fingered his book absently for a while, then 
took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! 
Tom "shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a himted 
and helpless rabbit look as she did, with a gim 
leveled at its head. Instantly he forgot his quarrel 
'with her. Quick — something must be done! done 
in a fiash, too! But the very imminence of the 
emergency paralyzed his invention. Good ! — ^he had 
an inspiration ! He would nm and snatch the book, 
spring through the door and fiy. But his resolu- 
tion shook for one little instant, and the chance 
was lost — ^the master opened the voltune. If Tom 
only had the wasted opportimity back again! Too 
late. There was no help for Becky now, he said. 
The next moment the master faced the school. 
Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that 
in it which smote even the innocent 'with fear. 
There was silence while one might cotmt ten, the 
master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: 

‘‘Who tore this book?” 


*74 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

There was not a sound. One could have heard 
a pin drop. The stillness continued; the master 
searched face after face for signs of guilt. 

“ Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?'’ 

A denial. Another pause. 

* ‘Joseph Harper, did you?” 

Another denial. Tom's imeasiness grew more 
and more intense tmder the slow torture of these 
proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of boys 
! — considered awhile, then turned to the girls: 

“Amy Lawrence?” 

A shake of the head. 

“Grade Miller?” 

The same sign. 

“Susan Harper, did you do this?” 

Another negative. The next girl was Becky 
Thatcher. Tom was trembling from head to foot 
with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of 
the situation. 

“Rebecca Thatcher” [Tom glanced at her face — 
it was white with terror] — “did you tear — ^no, look 
me in the face” [her hands rose in appeal] — “did 
you tear this book?” 

A thought shot like lightning through Tom’s 
brain. He sprang to his feet and shouted — “I 
done it!” 

The school stared in perplexity at this incredible 
folly. Tom stood a moment, to gather his dismem- 
bered faculties; and when he stepped forward to go 
to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the 
adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's 
eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred floggings* 


MARK TWAIN 


Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took 
without an outcry the most merciless flaying that 
even Mr. Dobbins had ever administered; and also 
received with indifference the added cruelty of a 
command to remain two hours after school should 
be dismissed — ^for he knew who would wait for him 
outside tin his captivity was done, and not cormt 
the tedious time as loss, either. 

Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance 
against Alfred Temple; for with shame and repent- 
ance Becky had told him all, not forgetting her own 
treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had 
to give way, soon, to pleasanter musings, and he 
fell asleep at last, with Becky's latest words lingering 
dreamily in his ear — 

'‘Tom, how could you be so noble!*’ 


CHAPTER XXI 


V ACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, 
always severe, grew severer and more exacting 
than ever, for he wanted the school to make a good 
showing on “Examination** day. His rod and his 
ferule were seldom idle now — at least among the 
smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and young 
ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. 
Dobbins*s lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for 
although he carried, imder his wig, a perfectly bald 
and shiny head, he had only reached middle age and 
there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As 
the great day approached, all the tyranny that was 
in him came to the surface; he seemed to take a 
vindictive pleasure in ptmishing the least short- 
comings. The consequence was, that the smaller 
boys spent their days in terror and suffering and 
their nights in plotting revenge. They threw away 
no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But 
he kept ahead all the time. The retribution that 
followed every vengeful success was so sweeping 
and majestic that the boys always retired from the 
field badly worsted. At last they conspired together 
and hit upon a plan that promised a dazzling vic- 
tory. They swore in the sign-painter*s boy, told 
him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his 

X77 


MARK TWAIN 


own reasons for being delighted, for the master 
boarded in his father’s family and had given the 
boy ample cause to hate him. The master’s wife 
would go on a visit to the coimtry in a few days, 
and there would be nothing to interfere with the 
plan; the master always prepared himself for great 
occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the 
sign-painter’s boy said that when the dominie had 
reached the proper condition on Examination Eve- 
ning he would “manage the thing” while he napped 
in his chair; then he would have him awakened at 
the right time and hiuried away to school. 

In the fullness of time the interesting occasion 
arrived. At eight in the evening the school-house 
was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with wreaths 
and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat 
throned in his great chair upon a raised platform, 
with his blackboard behind him. He was looking 
tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each 
side and six rows in front of him were occupied by 
the dignitaries of the town and by the parents of 
the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of citizens, 
was a spacious temporary platform upon which were 
seated the scholars who were to take part in the 
exercises of the evening; rows of small boys, washed 
and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort; 
rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and 
young ladies clad in lawn and muslin and con^ 
spicuously conscious of their bare arms, their grand- 
mothers’ ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue 
ribbon and the flowers in their hair. All the rest of 
the house was filled with non-participating scholars. 

178 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

The exercises began. A very little boy stood up 
and sheepishly recited, ‘‘You'd scarce expect one 
of my age to speak in public on the stage," etc. — 
accompanying himself with the painfully exact and 
spasmodic gestures which a machine might have 
used — supposing the machine to be a trifle out of 
order. But he got through safely, though cruelly 
scared, and got a fine round of applause when he 
made his manufactured bow and retired. 

A little shamefaced girl lisped “Mary had a little 
lamb," etc., performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, 
got her meed of applause, and sat down flushed 
and happy. 

Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited con- 
fidence and soared into the unquenchable and inde- 
structible “Give me liberty or give me death" 
speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and 
broke down in the middle of it. A ghastly stage- 
fright seized him, his legs quaked under him and he 
was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sym- 
pathy of the house — ^but he had the house's silence, 
too, which was even worse than its sympathy. The 
master frowned, and this completed the disaster. 
Tom struggled awhile and then retired, utterly 
defeated. There was a weak attempt at applause, 
but it died early. 

“The Boy Stood on the Biuming Deck" followed; 
also “The Assyrian Came Down," and other de- 
clamatory gems. Then there were reading exer- 
cises and a spelling-fight. The meager Latin class 
recited with honor. The prime feature of the 
evening was in order now — original “composi- 

m 


MARK TWAIN 


tions** by the young ladies. Each in her turn 
stepped forward to the edge of the platform, cleared 
her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with 
dainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored 
attention to ‘‘expression’* and punctuation. The 
themes were the same that had been illuminated 
upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, 
their grandmothers, and doubtless aU their ancestors 
in the female line clear back to the Crusades. 
* ‘ Friendship ’ ’ was one ; ‘ ‘ Memories of Other Days ’ ’ ; 
“Religion in History”; “Dream Land”; “The 
Advantages of Culture”; “Forms of Political Gov- 
ernment Compared and Contrasted”; “Melan- 
choly ” ; “ Filial Love ” ; “ Heart Longings, ’ ’ etc., etc. 

A prevalent feature in these compositions was 
a nursed and petted melancholy; another was a 
wasteful and opulent gush of “fine language”; 
another was a tendency to lug in by the ears par- 
ticularly prized words and phrases until they were 
worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that conspicu- 
ously marked and marred them was the inveterate 
and intolerable sermon that wagged its crippled tail 
at the end of each and every one of them. No 
matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking 
effort was made to squirm it into some aspect or 
other that the moral and religious mind could con- 
template with edification. The glaring insincerity 
of these sermons was not sufficient to compass the 
banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it 
is not sufficient to-day; it never will be sufficient 
while the world stands, perhaps. There is no school 
in all our land where the young ladies do not feel 
i8o 


A.DVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

obliged to close their compositions with a sermon; 
and you will find that the sermon of the most 
frivolous and the least religious girl in the school is 
always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. 
But enough of this. Homely truth is impalatable. 

Let us return to the ‘‘Examination.” The first 
composition that was read was one entitled “Is 
this, then, Life?” Perhaps the reader can endure 
an extract from it : 

In the common walks of life, with what delightful emotions 
does the youthful mind look forward to some anticipated scene 
of festivity! Imagination is busy sketching rose-tinted pictures 
of joy. In fancy, the voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself 
amid the festive throng, *‘the observed of all observers.” Her 
graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling through the 
mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is brightest, her step is 
lightest in the gay assembly. 

In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, and the 
welcome hour arrives for her entrance into the elysian world, 
of which she has had such bright dreams. How fairylike does 
everything appear to her enchanted vision! Each new scene 
is more charming than the last. But after a while she finds 
that beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity: the flattery 
which once charmed her soul now grates harshly upon her 
ear; the ballroom has lost its charms; and with wasted health 
and embittered heart she turns away with the conviction that 
earthly pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul! 

And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of 
gratification from time to time during the reading, 
accompanied by whispered ejaculations of “How 
sweet!” “How eloquent!” “So true!” etc., and 
after the thing had closed with a peculiarly afflicting 
sermon the applause was enthusiastic. 

Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face 

13 i 8 i 


MARK TWAIN 


had the “interesting” paleness that comes of pills 
apd indigestion, and read a “poem.” Two stanzas 
of it will do : 

A MISSOURI MAIDEN’S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA 

Alabama, good-by! I love thee well! 

But yet for a while do I leave thee now I 

Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, 

And burning recollections throng my brow! 

For I have wandered through thy flowery woods* 

Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa’s stream; 

Have listened to Tallassee’s warring floods. 

And wooed on Coosa’s side Aurora’s beam.^ 

Yet shame I not to bear an o’er-full heart. 

Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes; 

'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, 

’Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs. 

Welcome and home were mine within this State, 

Whose vales I leave — ^whose spires fade fast from me; 

And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and t^te. 

When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee I 

There were very few there who knew what **tite** 
meant, but the poem was very satisfactory, never- 
theless. 

Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, 
black-haired young lady, who paused an impressive 
moment, assumed a tragic expression, and began to 
read in a measured, solemn tone. 

A VISION 

Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the throne on high 
not a single star quivered; but the deep intonations of the heavy 
thunder constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the terrific 
lightning reveled in angry mood through the cloudy chambers 
of heaven, seeming to scorn the power exerted over its terror 
by the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous winds unan- 

x 82 


ADVENTURE.S OF TOM SAWYER 

imously came forth from their mystic homes, and blustered 
about as if to enhance by their aid the wildness of the scene. 

At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human sympathy my 
very spirit sighed; but instead thereof, 

“My dearest friend, my counselor, my comforter and guide — 
My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy,” came to my side. 

She moved Hke one of those bright beings pictured in the sunny 
walks of fancy’s Eden by the romantic and young, a queen of 
beauty unadorned save by her own transcendent loveliness. So 
soft was her step, it failed to make even a sound, and but for 
the magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as other un- 
obtrusive beauties, she would have glided away unperceived — • 
unsought. A strange sadness rested upon her features, like icy 
tears upon the robe of December, as she pointed to the con- 
tending elements without, and bade me contemplate the two 
beings presented. 

This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manu- 
script and wound up with a sermon so destructive of 
all hope to non-Presbyterians that it took the first 
prize. This composition was considered to be the 
very finest effort of the evening. The mayor of the 
'j/illage, in delivering the prize to the author of it, 
made a warm speech in which he said that it was 
by far the most “eloquent ” thing he had ever listened 
to, and that Daniel Webster himself might well be 
proud of it. 

It may be remarked, in passing, that the number 
of compositions in which the word “beauteous” 
was over-fondled, and human experience referred to 
as “life’s page,” was up to the usual average. 

Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of 
geniality, put his chair aside, turned his back to the 
audience, and began to draw a map of America on 
the blackboard, to exercise the geography class 
183 


MARK TWAIN 


upon. But he made a sad business of it with his 
xmsteady hand, and a smothered titter rippled over 
the house. He knew what the matter was and set 
himself to right it. He sponged out lines and re- 
made them; but he only distorted them more than 
ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. He 
threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if 
determined not to be put down by the mirth. He 
felt that all eyes were fastened upon him; he im- 
agined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering 
continued; it even manifestly increased. And well 
it might. There was a garret above, pierced with a 
scuttle over his head ; and down through this scuttle 
came a cat, suspended around the haunches by a 
string; she had a rag tied about her head and jaws 
to keep her from mewing; as she slowly descended 
she curved upward and clawed at the string, she 
swung downward and clawed at the intangible air. 
The tittering rose higher and higher — the cat was 
within six inches of the absorbed teachet’s head — 
down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig 
with her desperate claws, clung to it, and was 
snatched up into the garret in an instant with her 
trophy still in her possession! And how the light 
did blaze abroad from the master’s bald pate — ^for 
the sign-painter’s boy had gilded it! 

That broke up the meeting. The boys were 
avenged. Vacation had come. 

Note. — The pretended "compositions” quoted in this chapter 
are taken without alteration from a volume entitled "Prose and 
Poetry, by a Western Lady” — but they are exactly and precisely 
after the school-girl pattern, and hence are much happier t.lian any 
mere imitations could be. 


CHAPTER XXII 


T om joined the new order of Cadets of Temper- 
ance, being attracted by the showy character 
of their “regalia.*’ He promised to abstain from 
smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he re- 
mained a member. Now he found out a new thing 
— namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the 
surest way in the world to make a body want to go 
and do that very thing. Tom soon found himself 
tormented with a desire to drink and swear; the 
desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the 
hope of a chance t6 display himself in his red sash 
kept him from withdrawing from the order. Fourth 
of July was coming; but he soon gave that up — 
gave it up before he had worn his shackles over 
forty-eight hours — and fixed his hopes upon old 
Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was ap- 
parently on his deathbed and would have a big 
public funeral, since he was so high an official. 
During three days Tom was deeply concerned about 
the Judge’s condition and hungry for news of it. 
Sometimes his hopes ran high — so high that he 
would venture to get out his regalia and practise 
before the looking-glass. But the Judge had a most 
discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was 
pronoimced upon the mend — and then convalescent. 
185 


MARK TWAIN 


Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of injury, too. 
He handed in his resignation at once — and that 
night the Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom 
resolved that he would never trust a man like that 
again. 

The fimeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded 
in a style calculated to kill the late member with 
envy. Tom was a free boy again, however — there 
was something in that. He could drink and swear, 
now — ^but found to his surprise that he did not 
want to. The simple fact that he could took the 
desire away, and the charm of it. 

Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted 
vacation was beginning to hang a little heavily on his 
hands. 

He attempted a diary — ^but nothing happened 
during three days, and so he abandoned it. 

The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to 
town, and made a sensation. Tom and Joe Harper 
got up a band of performers and were happy for 
two days. 

Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a 
. failiure, for it rained hard, there was no procession 
in consequence, and the greatest man in the world 
(as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United 
States Senator, proved an overwhelming disap- 
pointment — ^for he was not twenty-five feet high, 
nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it. 

A circus came. The boys played circus for three 
days afterward in tents made of rag carpeting — ^ad- 
mission, three pins for boys, two for girls — ^and 
then circusing was abandoned. 

i86 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came — and 
went again and left the village duller and drearier 
than ever. 

There were some boys-and-girls’ parties, but they 
were so few and so delightful that they only made 
the aching voids between ache the harder. 

Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople 
home to stay with her parents during vacation — so 
there was no bright side to life anywhere. 

The dreadful secret of the mnrder was a chronic 
misery. It was a very cancer for permanency and pain. 

Then came the measles. 

During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead 
to the world and its happenings. He was very ill, 
he was interested in nothing. When he got upon 
his feet at last and moved feebly down-town, a 
melancholy change had come over everything and 
every creature. There had been a * ‘revival,’’ and 
everybody had “got religion,” not only the adults; 
but even the boys and girls. Tom went about, 
hoping against hope for the sight of one blessed 
sinful face, but disappointment crossed him every- 
where. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, 
and turned sadly away from the depressing spec- 
tacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and fotmd him visit- 
ing the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up 
Jim Hollis, who called his attention to the precious 
blessing of his late measles as a warning. Every 
boy he encoimtered added another ton to his de- 
pression; and when, in desperation, he flew for ref- 
uge at last to the bosom of Huckleberry Finn and 
was received with a Scriptural quotation, his heart 
x87 


MARK TWAIN 


broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that 
he alone of all the town was lost, forever and forever. 

And that night there came on a terrific storm, 
•yfith driving rain, awful claps of thimder and blind- 
ing sheets of lighting. He covered his head with 
the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense 
for his doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt 
that all this hubbub was about him. He believed he 
had taxed the forbearance of the powers above to 
the extremity of endurance and that this was the 
result. It might have seemed to him a waste of 
pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a battery 
of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous 
about the getting up such an expensive thimder- 
storm as this to knock the turf from imder an insect 
like himself. 

By and by the tempest spent itself and died with- 
out accomplishing its object. The boy’s first im- 
pulse was to be grateful, and reform. His second 
was to wait — ^for there might not be any more storms. 

The next day the doctors were back; Tom had 
relapsed. The three weeks he spent on his back 
this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad 
at last he was hardly grateful that he had been 
spared, remembering how lonely was his estate, how 
companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted list- 
lessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as 
judge in a juvenile court that was trying a cat for 
murder, in the presence of her victim, a bird. He 
found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating 
a stolen melon. Poor lads! they — ^like Tom — ^had 
suffered a relapse. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred — ^and 
/A vigorously: the murder trial came on in the 
court. It became the absorbing topic of village talk 
immediately. Tom could not get away from it. 
Every reference to the murder sent a shudder to his 
heart, for his troubled conscience and fears almost 
persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in 
his hearing as “feelers he did not see how he 
could be suspected of knowing anything about the 
murder, but still he could not be comfortable in the 
midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver 
all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to 
have a talk with him. It would be some relief to 
unseal his tongue for a little while; to divide his 
burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, 
he wanted to assure himself that Huck had remained 
discreet. 

“Huck, have you ever told anybody about — 
that?” 

“'Bout what?” 

“You know what.*^ 

“Oh — 'cotLTse I haven’t.” 

“ Never a word?” 

“Never a solitary word, so help me. What 
makes you ask?” 

i8q 


MARK TWAIN 


“Well, I was afeard/’ 

“Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn’t be alive two 
da3rs if that got found out. You know that.” 

Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause: 

“Huck, they couldn’t anybody get you to tell, 
could they?” 

“Get me to teU? Why, if I wanted that half- 
breed devil to drownd me they could get me to 
teU. They ain’t no different way.” 

“Well, that’s all right, then. I reckon we’re safe 
as long as we keep mum. But let’s swear again, 
anyway. It’s more surer.” 

“I’m agreed.” 

So they swore again with dread solemnities. 

“What is the talk around, Huck? I’ve heard a 
power of it.” 

“Talk? Well, it’s just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, 
Muff Potter all the time. It keeps me in a sweat, 
constant, so’s I want to hide som’ers.” 

“That’s just the same way they go on round me. 
I reckon he’s a goner. Don’t you feel sorry for 
him, sometimes?” 

“Most always — ^most always. He ain’t no ac- 
count; but then he hain’t ever done anything to 
hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money to 
get drunk on — and loafs around considerable; but 
lord, we all do that — ^leastways most of us — ^preachers 
and such like. But he’s kind of good — ^he give me 
half a fish, once, when there wam’t enough for two; 
and lots of times he’s kind of stood by me when I 
was out of luck.” 

“Well, he’s mended kites for me, Huck, and 
190 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

knitted hooks on to my line. I wish we could get 
him out of there.” 

“My! we couldn’t get him out, Tom. And 
besides, ’twouldn’t do any good; they’d ketch him 
again.” 

“Yes — so they would. But I hate to hear ’em 
abuse him so like the dickens when he never done 
— ^that.” 

“I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear ’em say he’s the 
bloodiest-looking villain in this country, and they 
wonder he wasn’t ever hung before.” 

“Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I’ve 
heard ’em say that if he was to get free they’d 
lynch him.” 

“And they’d do it, too.” 

The boys had a long talk, but it brought them 
little comfort. As the twilight drew on, they found 
themselves hanging about the neighborhood of the 
little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope 
that something would happen that might clear away 
their difficulties. But nothing happened; there 
seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in this 
luckless captive. 

The boys did as they had often done before — 
went to the cell grating and gave Potter some tobacco 
and matches. He was on the groimd floor and 
there were no guards. 

His gratitude for their gifts had always smote 
their consciences before — ^it cut deeper than ever, 
this time. They felt cowardly and treacherous to 
the last degree when Potter said: 

“You’ve been mighty good to me, boys — ^better’n 
191 


MARK TWAIN 


anybody else in this town. And I don’t forget it^ 
I don’t. Often I says to myself, says I, ‘I used to 
mend all the boys’ kites and things, and show ’em 
where the good fishin’ - places was, and befriend 
’em what I could, and now they’ve all forgot old 
Muff when he’s in trouble; but Tom don’t, and 
Huck don’t — they don’t forget him,’ says I, 'and I 
don’t forget them.’ Well, boys, I done an awful 
thing — drunk and crazy at the time — ^that’s the only 
way I account for it — and now I got to swing for 
it, and it’s right. Right, and best, too, I reckon 
— ^hope so, anyway. Well, we won’t talk about 
that. I don’t want to make you feel bad; you’ve 
befriended me. But what I want to say, is, don’t 
you ever get drunk — then you won’t ever get here. 
Stand a litter furder west — so — that’s it; it’s a 
prime comfort to see faces that’s friendly when a 
body’s in such a muck of trouble, and there don’t 
none come here but youm. Good friendly faces — 
good friendly faces. Git up on one another’s backs 
and let me touch ’em. That’s it. Shake hands — • 
youm ’ll come through the bars, but mine’s too big. 
Little hands, and weak — ^but they’ve helped Muff 
Potter a power, and they’d help him more if they 
could.” 

Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that 
night were full of horrors. The next day and the 
day after, he hung about the courtroom, drawn by 
an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing 
himself to stay out. Huck was having the same 
experience. They studiously avoided each other. 
Each wandered away, from time to time, but the 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

same dismal fascination always brought them back 
presently. Tom kept his ears open when idlers 
saimtered out of the courtroom, but invariably 
heard distressing news — the toils were closing more 
and more relentlessly around poor Potter. At the 
end of the second day the village talk was to the 
effect that Injun Joe’s evidence stood firm and un- 
shaken, and that there was not the slightest question 
as to what the jury’s verdict would be. 

Tom was out la,te that night, and came to bed 
through the window. He was in a tremendous state 
of excitement. It was hours before he got to sleep. 
All the village flocked to the courthouse the next 
morning, for this was to be the great day. Both 
sexes were about equally represented in the packed 
audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and 
took their places; shortly afterward. Potter, pale 
and haggard, timid and hopeless, was brought in, 
with chains upon him, and seated where aU the 
curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous 
was Injun Joe, stolid as ever. There was another 
pause, and then the judge arrived and the sheriff 
proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual 
whisperings among the lawyers aiid gathering to- 
gether of papers followed. These details and accom- 
panying delays worked up an atmosphere of prepa- 
ration that was as impressive as it was fascinating. 

Now a witness was called who testified that he 
foimd Muff Potter washing in the brook, at an early 
hour of the morning that the murder was discovered, 
and that he immediately sneaked away. After some 
further questioning, coimsel for the prosecution said: 
193 


MARK TWAIN 


“Take the witness.’^ 

The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but 
dropped them again when his own counsel said; 

“I have no questions to ask him.*’ 

The next witness proved the finding of the knife 
near the corpse. Coimsel for the prosecution said: 

“Take the witness.” 

“I have no questions to ask him,” Potter’s lawyer 
replied. 

A third witness swore he had often seen the knife 
in Potter’s possession. 

“Take the witness.” 

Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The 
faces of the audience began to betray annoyance. 
Did this attorney mean to throw away his client’s 
life without an effort? 

Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter’s 
guilty behavior when brought to the scene of the 
murder. They were allowed to leave the stand 
without being cross-questioned. 

Every detail of the damaging circumstances that 
occiured in the graveyard upon that morning which 
all present remembered so well was brought out by 
credible witnesses, but none of them were cross- 
examined by Potter’s lawyer. The perplexity and 
dissatisfaction of the house expressed itself in mur- 
murs and provoked a reproof from the bench. 
Counsel for the prosecution now said: 

“By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is 
above suspicion, we have fastened this awful crime, 
beyond all possibility of question, upon the unhappy 
prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here.” 

194 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his 
face in his hands and rocked his body softly to and 
fro, while a painful silence reigned in thecotut- 
room. Many men were moved, and many women's 
compassion testified itself in tears. Counsel for the 
defense rose and said: 

‘‘Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of 
this trial, we foreshadowed our piupose to prove 
that our client did this fearful deed while under the 
influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium pro- 
duced by drink. We have changed our mind. We 
shall not offer that plea.” [Then to the derk:] 
'‘Call Thomas Sawyer!” 

A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the 
house, not even excepting Potter's. Every eye fas- 
tened itself with wondering interest upon Tom as he 
rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy 
looked wild enough, for he was badly scared. The 
oath was administered. 

“Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seven- 
teenth of June, about the hour of midnight?” 

Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his 
tongue failed him. The audience listened breath- 
less, but the words refused to come. After a few 
moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength 
back, and managed to put enough of it into his voice 
to make part of the house hear: 

“In the graveyard!” 

“A little bit louder, please. Don’t be afraid. 
You were — ” 

“In the graveyard.” 

A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe’s face. 

195 


MARK TWAIN 

‘‘Were you anywhere near Horse Williamses 
grave?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Speak up — ^just a trifle louder. How near were 
you?” 

“Near as I am to you.” 

“Were you hidden, or not?” 

“I was hid.” 

“Where?” 

“Behind the elms that’s on the edge of the 
grave.” 

Injim Joe gave a barely perceptible start. 

“Any one with you?” 

“Yes, sir. I went there with — ” 

“Wait — ^wait a moment. Never mind mention* 
ing your companion’s name. We will produce huu 
at the proper time. Did you carry anything there 
with you.” 

Tom hesitated and looked confused. 

“Speak out, my boy — don’t be diffident. The 
truth is always respectable. What did you take 
there?” 

“Only a — a — dead cat.” 

There was a ripple of mirth, which the court 
checked. 

“We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, 
my boy, tell us everything that occurred — tell it in 
your own way — don’t skip anything, and don’t be 
afraid.” 

Tom began — ^hesitatingly at first, but as he 
warmed to his subject his words flowed more and 
more easily; in a little while every soimd ceased 
196 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; 
with parted lips and bated breath the audience hung 
uron his words, taking no note of time, rapt in the 
ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon 
pent emotion reached its climax when the boy said: 

— and as the doctor fetched the board aroimd 
and Muff Potter fell, Injun Joe jumped with the 
knife and — ” 

Crash! Quick as lightning the half-breed sprang 
for a window, tore his v/ay through .all opposers^ 
and was gone I 

14 


CHAPTER XXIV 


T om was a glittering hero once more — ^the pet of 
the old, the envy of the young. His name 
even went into immortal print, for the village paper 
magnified him. There were some that believed he 
wotild be President, yet, if he escaped hanging. 

As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff 
Potter to its bosom and fondled him as lavishly as 
it had abused him before. But that sort of conduct 
is to the world’s credit; therefore it is not well to 
find fault with it. 

Tom’s days were days of splendor and exultation 
to him, but his nights were seasons of horror. Injun 
Joe infested all his dreams, and always wdth doom 
in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade 
the boy to stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck 
was in the same state of wretchedness and terror, for 
Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer the night 
before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore 
afraid that his share in the business might leak out, 
yet, notwithstanding Injun Joe’s flight had saved 
him the suffering of testifying in court. The poor 
fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but 
what of that? Since Tom’s harassed conscience 
had managed to drive him to the lawyer’s house by 
night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of 
oaths, Hack's confidence in the human race was 
well-nigh obliterated. 

Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he 
had spoken; but nightly he washed he had sealed 
up his tongue. 

Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would 
never be captured; the other half he was afraid he 
would be. He felt sure he never could draw a safe 
breath again until that man was dead and he had 
seen the corpse. 

Rewards had been offered, the coimtry had been 
scoured, but no Injun Joe was foimd. One of those 
omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a detective, 
came up from St. Louis, moused aroimd, shook his 
head, looked wrise, and made that sort of astounding 
success which members of that craft usually achieve. 
That is to say, he “found a clew." But you can't 
hang a “clew" for murder, and so after that de- 
tective had got through and gone home, Tom felt 
just as insecure as he was before. 

The slow days drifted on, and each left behind 
it a slightly lightened weight of apprehension. 


CHAPTER XXV 


^TPHERE comes a time in every rightly constructed 
J[ boy’s life when he has a raging desire to go 
somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This desire 
suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out 
to find Joe Harper, but failed of success. Next he 
sought Ben Rogers; he had gone fishing. Presently 
he stinnbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. 
Huck would answer. Tom took him to a private 
place and opened the matter to him confidentially. 
Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take 
a hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment 
and required no capital, for he had a troublesome 
superabundance of that sort of time which is not 
money. ‘Where’ll we dig?” said Huck. 

“Oh, most anywhere.” 

“Why, is it hid all around?” 

“No indeed it ain’t. It’s hid in mighty particu- 
lar places, Huck — sometimes on islands, sometimes 
in rotten chests under the end of a limb of an old 
dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; 
but mostly under the floor in ha’nted houses.” 

“Who hides it?” 

“Why, robbers, of course — ^who’d you reckon? 
Sunday-school sup’rihtendents ?” 

“I don’t know. If ’twas mine I wouldn’t hide 
it; I’d spend it and have a good time.” 


200 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


“So would I. But robbers don’t do that way. 
They always hide it and leave it there.” 

“Don’t they come after it any more?” 

“No, they think they will, but the^^ generally 
forget the marks, or else they die. Anyway, it lays 
there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by 
somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how 
to find the marks — a paper that’s got to be ciphered 
over about a week because it’s mostly signs and 
hy ’roglyphics. ” 

“Hyro — ^which?” 

“Hy ’roglyphics — ^pictures and things, you know, 
that don’t seem to mean anything.” 

“Have you got one of them papers, Tom?” 

“No.” 

“Well then, how you going to find the marks?” 

“I don’t want any marks. They always bury it 
under a ha’nted house or on an island, or under a 
dead tree that’s got one limb sticking out. Well, 
we’ve tried Jackson’s Island a little, and we can try 
it again some time; and there’s the old ha’nted 
house up the Still-House branch, and there’s lots of 
dead-limb trees — dead loads of ’em.” 

“Is it under all of them?” 

* ‘ How you talk ! No !’ ’ 

“Then how you going to know which one to go 
for?” 

‘ * Go for aU of ’em !’ ’ 

“Why, Tom, it ’ll take all summer.” 

“Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass 
pot with a himdred dollars in it, all rusty and gay, 
or a rotten chest full of di’monds. How’s that?” 


^01 


MARK TWAIN 


Hack’s eyes glowed. 

“That’s bully. Plenty bully enough for me. 
Just you gimme the hundred dollars and I don’t 
want no di’monds.” 

“All right. But I bet you I ain’t going to throw 
off on di’monds. Some of ’em’s worth twenty dol- 
lars apiece — there ain’t any, hardly, but’s worth 
six bits or a dollar.” 

“No! Is that so?” 

“Cert’nly — anybody ’ll tell you so. Hain’t you 
ever seen one, Hack?” 

“Not as I remember.” 

“Oh, kings have slathers of them.” 

“Well, I don’t know no kings, Tom.” 

“I reckon you don’t. But if you was to go to 
Europe you’d see a raft of ’em hopping around.” 

“Do they hop?” 

“Hop? — your granny! No!” 

“Well, what did you say they did, for?” 

“Shucks, I only meant you’d see ’em — ^not hop- 
ping, of course — ^what do they want to hop for? — 
but I mean you’d just see ’em — scattered around, 
you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that 
old humpbacked Richard.” 

“Richard? What’s his other name?” 

“He didn’t have any other name. Kings don’t 
have any but a given name.” 

“No?” 

“But they don’t.” 

“Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don’t 
want to be a king and have only just a given name, 
tike a nigger. But say — ^where you going to dig first ?” 

202 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘‘Well, I don’t know. S’pose we tackle that old 
dead-limb tree on the hill t’other side of Still-House 
branch?” 

“I’m agreed.” 

So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set 
out on their three-mile tramp. They arrived hot 
and panting, and threw themselves down in the 
shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a 
smoke. 

“I like this,” said Tom, 

“So do 1.” 

“Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you 
going to do with your share?” 

“Well, I’ll have pie and a glass of soda every 
day, and I’ll go to every circus that comes along. I 
bet I’ll have a gay time.” 

“Well, ain’t you going to save any of it?” 

“Save it? What for?” 

“Why, so as to have something to live on by 
and by.” 

“Oh, that ain’t any use. Pap would come back 
to thish yer town some day and get his claws on it 
if I didn’t hurry up, and I tell you he’d clean it out 
pretty quick. What you going to do with youm, 
Tom?” 

“I’m going to buy a new drum, and a sure- 
’nough sword, and a red necktie, and a bull pup, and 
get married.” 

“Married!” 

“That’s it.” 

“Tom, you — ^why, you ain’t in your right mind.” 

“Wait — ^you’ll see.” 


203 


MARK TWAIN 


‘‘Well, that’s the foolishest thing you could do. 
Look at pap and my mother. Fight! Why, they 
used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty 
well.” 

“That ain’t anything. The girl I’m going to 
marry won’t fight.” 

“Tom, I reckon they’re all alike. They’ll all 
comb a body. Now you better think ’bout this 
awhile. I tell you you better. What’s the name of 
the gal?” 

“It ain’t a gal at all — ^it’s a girl.” 

“It’s all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some 
says girl— both’s right, like enough. Anyway, 
what’s her name, Tom?” 

“I’ll tell you some time — ^not now.” 

“All right — that ’ll do. Only if you get married 
I’ll be more lonesomer than ever.” 

“No you won’t. You’ll come and live with me. 
Now stir out of this and we’ll go to digging.” 

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No 
result. They toiled another half-hoiu:. Still no 
result. Huck said: 

“Do they always bury it as deep as this?” 

“Sometimes — not always. Not generally. I 
reckon we haven’t got the right place.” 

So they chose a new spot and began again. The 
labor dragged a little, but still they made progress. 
They pegged away in silence for some time. Finally 
Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded 
drops from his brow with his sleeve, and said: 

“Where you going to dig next, after we get this 
one?” 


204 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘T reckon maybe we’ll tackle the old tree that’s 
over yonder on Cardiff Hill back of the widow’s.” 

'T reckon that ’ll be a good one. But won’t the 
widow take it away from us, Tom? It’s on her 
land.” 

''She take it away! Maybe she’d like to try it 
once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it 
belongs to him. It don’t make any difference whose 
land it’s on.” 

That was satisfactory. The work went on. By 
and by Huck said: 

“Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. 
What do you think?” 

“It is mighty curious, Huck. I don’t understand 
it. Sometimes witches interfere. I reckon maybe 
that’s what’s the trouble now.” 

“Shucks, witches ain’t got no power in the day- 
time.” 

“Well, that’s so. I didn’t think of that. Oh, I 
know what the matter is! What a blamed lot of 
fools we are! You got to find out where the shadow 
of the limb falls at midnight, and that’s where you 
dig!” 

“Then consound it, we’ve fooled away all this 
work for nothing. Now hang it all, we got to come 
back in the night. It’s an awful long way. Can 
you get out?” 

“I bet I will. We’ve got to do it to-night, too, 
because if somebody sees these holes they’ll know 
in a minute what’s here and they’ll go for it.” 

“Well, I’ll come around and maow to-night.” 

“All right. Let’s hide the tools in the bushes.’* 

20S 


MARK TWAIN 


The boys were there that night, about the ap- 
pointed time. They sat in the shadow waiting. It 
was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by 
old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling 
leaves, ghosts lurked in the murky nooks, the deep 
baying of a hound floated up out of the distance, 
an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The 
boys were subdued by these solemnities, and talked 
little. By and by they judged that twelve had 
come; they marked where the shadow fell, and 
began to dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. 
Their interest grew stronger, and their industry 
kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still 
deepened, but every time their hearts jumped to 
hear the pick strike upon something, they only 
suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone 
or a chunk. At last Tom said: 

‘Tt ain’t any use, Huck, we’re wrong again.” 

‘‘Well, but we canH be wrong. We spotted the 
shadder to a dot.” 

‘T know it, but then there’s another thing.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough 
it was too late or too early.” 

Huck dropped his shovel. 

“That’s it,” said he. “That’s the very trouble. 
We got to give this one up. We can’t ever tell the 
right time, and besides this kind of thing’s too 
awful, here this time of night with witches and 
ghosts a-fluttering aroimd so. I feel as if some- 
thing’s behind me all the time; and I’m afeard to 
turn around, becuz maybe there’s others in front 
200 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, 
ever since I got here.'' 

“Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. 
They most always put in a dead man when they 
bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it." 

“Lordy!" 

“Yes, they do. I've always heard that." 

“Tom, I don’t like to fool around much where 
there’s dead people. A body’s botmd to get into 
trouble with 'em, sure." 

‘ ‘ I don’t like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one 
here was to stick his skull out and say something!” 

“Don’t, Tom! It’s awful." 

“WeU, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable 
a bit." 

“Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try 
somewheres else.” 

“All right, I reckon we better." 

“What 'U it be?” 

Tom considered awhile, and then said: 

“The ha’nted house. That’s it!" 

“Blame it, I don't like ha’nted houses, Tom. 
Why, they're a dem sight worse’n dead people. 
Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don’t 
come sliding around in a shroud, when you ain’t 
noticing, and peep over your shoulder all of a sud- 
den and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I 
couldn’t stand such a thing as that, Tom — ^nobody 
could." 

“Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only 
at night. They won’t hender us from digging there 
in the daytime.” 


207 


MARK TWAIN 


“Well, that’s so. But you know mighty well 
people don’t go about that ha’nted house in the 
day nor the night.” 

“Well, that’s mostly because they don’t like to 
go where a man’s been murdered, an3rway — but 
nothing’s ever been seen around that house except 
in the night — ^just some blue lights slipping by the 
windows — ^no regular ghosts.” 

“Well, where you see one of them blue lights 
flickering around, Tom, you can bet there’s a ghost 
mighty close behind it. It stands to reason. Becuz 
you know that they don’t anybody but ghosts use 
em. 

“Yes, that’s so. But anyway they don’t come 
around in the daytime, so what’s the use of our 
being afeard?” 

“Well, all right. We’ll tackle the ha’nted house 
if you say so — ^but I reckon it’s taking chances.” 

They had started down the hill by this time. 
There in the middle of the moonlit valley below 
them stood the “ha’nted” house, utterly isolated, its 
fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the 
very doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to luin, the 
window-sashes vacant, a comer of the roof caved 
in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to see 
a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a 
low tone, as befitted the time and the circumstances, 
they stmck far off to the right, to give the haunted 
house a wide berth, and took their way homeward 
through the woods that adorned the rearward side 
of Cardiff Hill. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the 
Jr\ dead tree; they had come for their tools. Tom 
was impatient to go to the haunted house; Huck 
was measurably so, also — ^but suddenly said: 

‘‘Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?” 

Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and 
then quickly lifted his eyes with a startled look in 
them — 

“My! I never once thought of it, Huck!” 

“Well, I didn’t neither, but all at once it popped 
onto me that it was Friday.” 

“Blame it, a body can’t be too careful, Huck. 
We might ’a’ got into an awful scrape, tackling such 
a thing on a Friday.” 

** Might! Better say we would! There’s some 
lucky days, maybe, but Friday ain’t.” 

“Any fool knows that. I don’t reckon you was 
the first that found it out, Huck.” 

“Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday 
ain’t all, neither. I had a rotten bad dream last 
night — dreampt about rats.” 

“No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?” 

“No.” 

“Well, that’s good, Huck. When they don’t 
fight it’s only a sign that there’s trouble around, 

20Q 


MARK TWAIN 


you know. All we got to do is to look mighty 
sharp and keep out of it. We’ll drop this thing for 
to-day, and play. Do you know Robin Hood, Huck ?” 

“No. Who’s Robin Hood?” 

“Why, he was one of the greatest men that was 
ever in England — and the best. He was a robber.” 

“Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?” 

“Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and 
kings, and such like. But he never bothered the 
poor. He loved ’em. He always divided up with 
’em perfectly square.” 

“Well, he must *a’ been a brick.” 

“I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest 
man that ever was. They ain’t any such men 
now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in 
England, with one hand tied behind him; and he 
could take his yew bow and plug a ten-cent piece 
every time, a mile and a half.” 

“What’s a yew bow?” 

“7 don’t know. It’s some kind of a bow, of 
coiu*se. And if he hit that dime only on the edge 
he would set down and cry — and curse. But we’ll 
play Robin Hood — ^it’s nobby fun. I’ll learn you.” 

“I’m agreed.” 

So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, 
now and then casting a yearning eye down upon the 
haimted house and passing a remark about the 
morrow’s prospects and possibilities there. As the 
sun began to sink into the west they took their 
way homeward athwart the long shadows of the 
trees and soon were btuied from sight in the forests 
of Cardiff Hill. 


210 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were 
at the dead tree again. They had a smoke and a 
chat in the shade, and then dug a little in their last 
hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom 
said there were so many cases where people had 
given up a treasure after getting down within six 
inches of it, and then somebody else had come along 
and turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. 
The thing failed this time, however, so the boys 
shouldered their tools and went away feeling that 
they had not trifled with fortime, but had fulfilled 
all the reqmrements that belong to the business of 
treasiu-e-hunting. 

When they reached the haimted house there was 
something so weird and grisly about the dead si- 
lence that reigned there under the baking sun, and 
something so depressing about the loneliness and 
desolation of the place, that they were afraid, for 
a moment, to ventme in. Then they crept to the 
door and took a trembling peep. They saw a 
weed-grown, fioorless room, implastered, an ancient 
fireplace, vacant windows, a ruinous staircase; and 
here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and aban- 
doned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, 
with quickened pulses, talking in whispers, ears 
alert to catch the slightest sound, and muscles tense 
and ready for instant retreat. 

In a little while familiarity modified their fears 
and they gave the place a critical and interested 
examination, rather admiring their own boldness, 
and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look 
up-stairs. This was something like cutting off re- 
211 


MARK TWAIN 


treat, but they got to daring each other, and of 
course there could be but one result — they threw 
their tools into a comer and made the ascent. Up 
there were the same signs of decay. In one comer 
they foimd a closet that promised mystery, but the 
promise was a fraud — ^there was nothing in it. 
Their courage was up now and well in hand. They 
were about to go down and begin work when — 

'‘’Sh!” said Tom. 

‘‘What is it?” whispered Huck, blanching with 
fright. 

“’Sh! . . . There! . . . Hear it?”* 

“Yes! . . . Oh, my! Let’s run!”' 

“Keep still! Don’t you budge! They’re coming 
right toward the door.” 

The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with 
their eyes to knot-holes in the planking, and lay 
waiting, in a misery of fear. 

“They’ve stopped. . . . No — coming. . . . Here 
they are. Don’t whisper another word, Huck. My 
goodness, I wish I was out of this!” 

Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: 
“There’s the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that’s 
been about town once or twice lately — never saw 
t’other man before.” 

“T’other” was a ragged, unkempt creature, with 
nothing very pleasant in his face. The Spaniard 
was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy white 
whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his 
sombrero, and he wore green goggles. When they 
came in, “t’other” was talking in a low voice; 
they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with 

S12 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

their backs to the wall, and the speaker continued 
his remarks. His manner became less guarded and 
his words more distinct as he proceeded: 

“No,” said he, “I’ve thought it aU over, and I 
don’t like it. It’s dangerous.” 

‘ ‘ Dangerous !” grunted the ‘ ‘ deaf and dumb ” Span- 
iard — to the vast surprise of the boys. “Milksop!” 

This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It 
was Injim Joe’s! There was silence for some time. 
Then Joe said: 

“What’s any more dangerous than that job up 
yonder — ^but nothing’s come of it.” 

“That’s different. Away up the river so, and 
not another house about. ’Twon’t ever be known 
that we tried, anyway, long as we didn’t succeed.” 

“Well, what’s more dangerous than coming here 
in the daytime! — anybody would suspicion us that, 
saw us.” 

“J know that. But there wam’t any other place 
as handy after that fool of a job. I want to quit 
this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only it wam’t 
any use trying to stir out of here with those infernal 
boys playing over there on the hill right in full view.” 

“Those infernal boys” quaked again tmder the 
•inspiration of this remark, and thought how lucky it 
was that they had remembered it was "Friday and 
concluded to wait a day. They wished in theh 
hearts they had waited a year. 

The two men got out some food and made a 
luncheon. After a long and thoughtful silence, 
Injun Joe said: 

“Look here, lad — ^you go back up the river where 
15 213 


MARK TWAIN 


you belong. W^t there till you hear from me. 
I’ll take the chances on dropping into this town 
just once more, for a look. We’ll do that ‘danger- 
ous’ job after I’ve spied around a httle and think 
things look well for it. Then for Texas ! We’ll leg 
it together!” 

This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to 
yawning, and Injim Joe said: 

“I’m dead for sleep! It’s your turn to watch.” 

He curled down in the weeds and soon began to 
snore. His comrade stirred him once or twice and 
he became quiet. Presently the watcher began to 
nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men 
began to snore now. 

The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom 
whispered : 

“Now’s our chance — come!” 

Huck said: 

“I can’t — I’d die if they was to wake.” 

Tom urged — Huck held back. At last Tom rose 
slowly and softly, and started alone. But the first 
step he made wrung such a hideous creak from the 
crazy fioor that he sank down almost dead with 
fright. He never made a second attempt. The 
boys lay there coimting the dragging moments till 
it seemed to them that time must be done and eter- 
nity growing gray; and then they were grateful to 
note that at last the sun was setting. 

Now one snore ceased. Injim Joe sat up, stared 
aroimd — smiled grimly upon his comrade, whose 
head was drooping upon his knees — stirred him up 
with his foot and said : 


214 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Here! You're a watchman, ain’t you! Ah 
right, though — ^nothing’s happened.” 

“My! have I been asleep?” 

“Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be 
moving, pard. What ’ll we do with what little swag 
we’ve got left?” 

“I don’t know — ^leave it here as we’ve always 
done, I reckon. No use to take it away till we start 
south. Six himdred and fifty in silver’s something 
to carry.” 

“Well — ^all right — ^it won’t matter to come here 
once more.” 

“No — ^but I’d say come in the night as we used 
to do — it’s better.” 

“Yes: but look here; it may be a good while 
before I get the right chance at that job; accidents 
might happen; ’tain’t in such a very good place; 
we’ll just regularly biuy it — and bury it deep.” 

“Good idea,” said the comrade, who walked 
across the room, knelt down, raised one of the rear- 
ward hearthstones and took out a bag that jingled 
pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty 
dollars for himself and as much for Injim Joe and 
passed the bag to the latter, who was on his knees 
in the comer, now, digging with his bowie-knife. 

The boys forgot aU their fears, aU their miseries in 
an instant. With gloating eyes they watched every 
movement. Luck! — the splendor of it was beyond 
aU imagination! Six hundred dollars was money 
enough to make half a dozen boys rich ! Here was 
treasure-himting imder the happiest auspices — ^there 
would not be any bothersome imcertainty as to 
2IS 


MARK TWAIN 


where to dig. They nudged each other every mo- 
ment — eloquent nudges and easily imderstood, for 
they simply meant — “Oh, but ain’t you glad now 
we’re here!” 

Joe’s knife struck upon something. 

“Hello!” said he. 

“What is it?” said his comrade. 

“Half -rotten plank — ^no, it’s a box, I believe. 
Here— -bear a hand and we’ll see what it’s here for. 
Never mind, I’ve broke a hole.” 

He reached his hand in and drew it out — 

“Man, it’s money!” 

The two men examined the handful of coins. 
They were gold. The boys above were as excited 
as themselves, and as dehghted. 

Joe’s comrade said: 

“We’ll make quick work of this. There’s an old 
rusty pick over amongst the weeds in the comer 
the other side of the fireplace — I saw it a minute 
ago. 

He ran and brought the boys’ pick and shovel. 
Injun Joe took the pick, looked it over critically, 
shook his head, muttered something to himself, and 
then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed^ 
It was not very large; it was iron-botmd and had 
been very strong before the slow years had injured 
it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in 
bhssful silence. 

“Pard, there’s thousands of dollars here,” said 
Injun Joe. 

“’Twas always said that Murrel’s gang used to be 
aroimd here one summer,” the stranger observed. 

216 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

*T know it” said Injim Joe; “and this looks like 
it, I shoiild say.“ 

**Now you won’t need to do that job.” 

The half-breed frowned. Said he: 

“You don’t know me. Least you don’t know 
all about that thing. ’Tain’t robbery altogether — 
it’s revenge!” and a wicked light flamed in his eyes. 
“I’ll need your help in it. When it’s finished — 
then Texas. Go home to your Nance and your 
kids, and stand by till you hear from me.” 

“Well — ^if you say so. What ’ll we do with this — ^ 
bury it again?” 

“Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] No! by 
the great Sachem, no ! [Profound distress over- 
head.] I’d nearly forgot. That pick had fresh 
earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a 
moment.] What business has a pick and a shovel 
here? What business with fresh earth on them? 
Who brought them here — and where are they gone? 
Have you heard anybody? — seen anybody? What! 
bury it again and leave them to come and see the 
groimd disturbed? Not exactly — ^not exactly. We’ll 
take it to my den.” 

“Why, of course! Might have thought of that 
before. You mean Number One?” 

“No — Number Two — ^under the cross. The other 
place is bad — ^too common.” 

“All right. It’s nearly dark enough to start.” 

Injun Joe got up and went about from window to 
window cautiously peeping out. Presently he said: 

“Who could have brought those tools here? Do 
you reckon they can be up-stairs?” 

217 


MARK TWAIN 


The boys’ breath forsook them. Injun Joe put 
his hand on his knife, halted a moment, undecided, 
and then turned toward the stairway. The boys 
thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. 
The steps came creaking up the stairs — the intoler- 
able distress of the situation woke the stricken reso- 
lution of the lads — they were about to spring for 
the closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers 
and Injun Joe landed on the ground amid the debris 
of the ruined stairway. He gathered himself up 
cursing, and his comrade said: 

“Now what’s the use of all that? If it’s any- 
body, and they’re up there, let them stay there — 
who cares? If they want to jump down, now, and 
get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in 
fifteen minutes — and then let them foUow us if they 
want to. I’m willing. In my opinion, whoever 
hove those things in here caught a sight of us and 
took us for ghosts or devils or something. I’ll bet 
they’re running yet.” 

Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his 
friend that what daylight was left ought to be 
economized in getting things ready for leaving. 
Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in 
the deepening twilight, and moved toward the 
river with their precious box. 

Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, 
and stared after them through the chinks between 
the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. They 
were content to reach ground again without broken 
necks, and take the townward track over the hill. 
They did not talk much. They were too much 


I 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

absorbed in hating themselves — ^hating the ill luck 
that made them take the spade and the pick there. 
But for that, Injtm Joe never would have suspected. 
He wotild have hidden the silver with the gold to 
wait there till his “revenge’’ was satisfied, and then 
he would have had the misfortune to find that 
money t\u*n up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that the 
tools were ever brought there ! 

They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard 
when he should come to town spying out for chances 
to do his revengeful job, and follow him to “Number 
Two,” wherever that might be. Then a ghastly 
thought occurred to Tom: 

“Revenge? What if he means us, HuckI” 

“Oh, don’t!” said Huck, nearly fainting. 

They talked it all over, and as they entered town 
they agreed to believe that he might possibly mean 
somebody else — at least that he might at least mean 
nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified. 

Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be 
alone in danger! Company would be a palpable 
Improvement, he thought. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


T he adventure of the day mightily tormented 
Tom’s dreams that night. Four times he had 
his hands on that rich treasure and four times it 
wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook 
him and wakefulness brought back the hard reality 
of his misfortune. As he lay in the early morning 
recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he 
noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and 
far away— somewhat as if they had happened in 
another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it 
occurred to him that the great adventure itself must 
be a dream! There was one very strong argument 
in favor of this idea — ^namely, that the quantity of 
coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had 
never seen as much as fifty dollars in one mass 
before, and he was like all boys of his age and 
station in life, in that he imagined that all references 
to ‘‘hundreds” and “thousands” were mere fanci- 
ful forms of speech, and that no such sums really 
existed in the world. He never had supposed for a 
moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars 
was to be found in actual money in any one’s pos- 
session. If his notions of hidden treasure had been 
analyzed, they would have been found to consist of 
a handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, 
splendid, imgraspable dollars. 

220 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly 
sharper and clearer under the attrition of thinking 
them over, and so he presently foimd himself lean- 
ing to the impression that the thing might not have 
been a dream, after all. This imcertainty must be 
swept away. He would snatch a hurried breakfast 
and go and find Huck. 

Huck was sitting on the gunwale of a flatboat, 
listlessly dangling his feet in the water and looking 
very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead 
up to the subject. If he did not do it, then the ad- 
venture would be proved to have been only a dream. 

Hello, Huck!’^ 

“Hello, yourself.” 

Silence for a minute. 

“Tom, if we’d ’a’ left the blame tools at the dead 
tree, we’d ’a’ got the money. Oh, ain’t it awful!” 

“’Tain’t a dream, then, ’tain’t a dream! Some- 
how I most wish it was. Dog’d if I don’t, Huck.” 

“What ain’t a dream?” 

“Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking 
it was.” 

“Dream! If them stairs hadn’t broke down 
you’d ’a’ seen how much dream it was! I’ve had 
dreams enough aU night — with that patch-eyed 
Spanish devil going for me all through ’em — ^rot 
him!” 

“No, not rot him. Find him! Track the money!” 

“Tom, we’ll never find him. A feller don’t have 
only one chance for such a pile — and that one’s 
lost. I’d feel mighty shaky if I was to see him, 
anyway.” 


221 


MARK TWAIN 


‘‘Well, so’d I; but I’d like to see him, anyivay— 
and track him out — to his Number Two.” 

“Number Two — ^yes, that’s it. I ben thinking 
’bout that. But I can’t make nothing out of it. 
What do you reckon it is?” 

“I dono. It’s too deep. Say, Huck — ^maybe it’s 
the number of a house!” 

“Goody! . . . No, Tom, that ain’t it. If it is, it 
ain’t in this one-horse town. They ain’t no num« 
bers here.” 

“Well, that’s so. Lemme think a minute. Here 
— ^it’s the number of a room — ^in a tavern, you 
know!” 

“Oh, that’s the trick! They ain’t only two 
taverns. We can find out quick.” 

“You stay here, Huck, till I come.” 

Tom was off at once. He did not care to have 
Huck’s company in public places. He was gone 
half an hour. He found that in the best tavern. 
No. 2 had long been occupied by a yoimg lawyer, 
and was stiU so occupied. In the less ostentatious 
house No. 2 was a mystery. The tavern-keeper’s 
young son said it was kept locked all the time, and 
he never saw anybody go into it or come out of it 
except at night; he did not know any particular 
reason for this state of things; had had some little 
curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the 
most of the mystery by entertaining himself with the 
idea that that room was “ha’nted”; had noticed 
that here was a light in there the night before. 

“That’s what I’ve found out, Huck. I reckon 
that’s the very No. 2 we’re after.” 

222 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

*T reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to 
do?’’ 

“Lemme think.” 

Tom thought a long time. Then he said: 

“I’ll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is 
the door that comes out into that little close alley 
between the tavern and the old rattletrap of a brick 
store. Now you get hold of all the doorkeys you 
can find, and I’ll nip all of auntie’s, and the first 
dark night we’ll go there and try ’em. And mind 
you, keep a lookout for Injim Joe, because he said 
he was going to drop into town and spy around 
once more for a chance to get his revenge. If you 
see him, you just follow him; and if he don’t go to 
that No. 2, that ain’t the place.” 

“Lordy, I don’t want to f oiler him by myself!” 

“Why, it ’ll be night, sure. He mightn’t ever 
see you — ^and if he did, maybe he’d never think 
anything.” 

“WeU, if it’s pretty dark I reckon I’ll track him. 
I dono — I dono. I’ll try.” 

“You bet I’ll foUow him, if it’s dark, Huck. 
Why, he might ’a’ foimd out he couldn’t get his 
revenge, and be going right after that money.” 

“It’s so, Tom, it’s so. I’ll foller him; I will, by 
jingoes!” 

“Now you’re talking! Don’t you ever weaken, 
Huck, and I won’t.” 


CHAPTER XXVin 


T hat night Tom and Huck were ready for their 
adventure. They htmg about the neighbor- 
hood of the tavern until after nine, one watching 
the alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. 
Nobody entered the alley or left it; nobody resem- 
bling the Spaniard entered or left the tavern door. 
The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went 
home with the understanding that if a considerable 
degree of darkness came on, Huck was to come and 
“maow,’’ whereupon he would slip out and try the 
keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck 
closed his watch and retired to bed in an empty 
sugar hogshead about twelve. 

Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also 
Wednesday. But Thursday night promised better. 
Tom shpped out in good season with his aimt’s old 
tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. 
He hid the lantern in Huck’s sugar hogshead and 
the watch began. An hour before midnight the 
tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones there- 
abouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. 
Nobody had entered or left the alley. Everything 
was auspicious. The blackness of darkness reigned, 
the perfect stillness was interrupted only by oc- 
casional mutterings of distant thtmder. 


22 i 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYERS 

1 

Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped 
it closely in the towel, and the two adventurers 
crept in the gloom toward the tavern. Huck stood 
sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then 
there was a season of waiting anxiety that weighed 
upon Huck’s spirits like a moimtain. He began 
to wish he could see a flash from the lantern — 
it would frighten him, but it would at least tell 
him that Tom was alive yet. It seemed hours since 
Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have fainted ; 
maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst 
imder terror and excitement. In his imeasiness 
Huck found himself drawing closer and closer to 
the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and 
momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen 
that would take away his breath. There was not 
much to take away, for he seemed only able to 
inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon 
Wear itself out, the way it was beating. Suddenly 
there was a flash of light and Tom came tearing 
by him: 

‘'RimT' said he; ‘‘run for your lifeT' 

He needn’t have repeated it; once was enough; 
Huck was making thirty or forty miles an hour 
before the repetition was uttered. The boys never 
stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted 
slaughter-house at the lower end of the village. Just 
as they got within its shelter the storm burst and 
the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his 
breath he said : 

“Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, 
just as soft as I could; but they seemed to make 
22 $ 


MARK TWAIN 


such a power of racket that I couldn’t hardly get 
my breath I was so scared. They wouldn’t turn in 
the lock, either. Well, without noticing what I was 
doing, I took hold of the knob, and open comes the 
door! It wam’t locked! I hopped in, and shook 
off the towel, and, great Caesar's ghost!" 

‘‘What — ^what ’d you see, Tom?” 

“Huck, I most stepped onto Injim Joe’s hand!’' 

“No!” 

“Yes! He was laying there, sound asleep on 
the floor, with his old patch on his eye and his arms 
spread out.” 

“Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?” 

“No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just 
grabbed that towel and started!” 

“I’d never ’a’ thought of the towel, I bet!” 

“Well, I would. My aimt would make me 
mighty sick if I lost it.” 

“Say, Tom, did you see that box?” 

“Huck, I didn’t wait to look arotmd. I didn’t 
see the box, I didn’t see the cross. I didn’t see 
an5rthing but a bottle and a tin cup on the floor by 
Injun Joe; yes, and I saw two barrels and lots more 
bottles in the room. Don’t you see, now, what’s 
the matter with that ha’nted room?” 

“How?” 

“Why, it’s ha’nted with whisky! Maybe all the 
Temperance Taverns have got a ha’nted room, hey, 
Huck?” 

“ Well, I reckon maybe that’s so. Who’d ’a’ thought 
such a thing ? But say, Tom, now’s a mighty good 
time to get that box, if Injun Joe’s dr unk .** 

226 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

*Tt is that! You try it!*’ 

Huck shuddered. 

“Well, no — I reckon not.” 

“And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle 
alongside of Injun Joe ain’t enough. If there’d 
been three, he’d be drunk enough and I’d do it.” 

There was a long pause for reflection, and then 
Tom said: 

“Lookyhere, Huck, le’s not try that thing any 
more till we know Injun Joe’s not in there. It’s too 
scary. Now, if we watch every night, we’ll be dead 
sure to see him go out, some time or other, and 
then we’ll snatch that box quicker’n lightning.” 

“Well, I’m agreed. I’ll watch the whole night 
long, and<I’ll do it every night, too, if you’ll do the , 
other^part of the job.” 

“All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot upj 
Hooper Street a block and maow — and if I’m asleep, ^ 
you throw some gravel at the window and that ’ll 
fetch me.” 

“Agreed, and good as wheat!” 

“Now, Huck, the storm’s over, and I’ll go home. 
It ’ll begin to be daylight in a couple of hours. You 
go back and watch that long, wiU you?” 

“I said I would, Tom, and I will. I’ll ha’nt that 
tavern every night for a year! I’ll sleep all day and 
I’ll stand watch all night.” 

“That’s all right. Now, where you going to 
sleep?” 

“In Ben Rogers’s hayloft. He lets me, and so 
does his pap’s nigger man. Uncle Jake. I tote 
water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and 
227 


MARK TWAIN 


any time I ask him he gives me a little something to 
eat if he can spare it. That^s a mighty good nigger, 
Tom. He likes me, becuz I don’t ever act as if I 
was above him. Sometimes I’ve set right down and 
eat with him. But you needn’t tell that. A body’s 
got to do things when he’s awful hungry he wouldn’t 
want to do as a steady thing.” 

‘'Well, if I don’t want you in the daytime. I’ll let 
you sleep. I won’t come bothering around. Any 
time you see something’s up, in the night, just skip 
right around and maow.” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


T he first thing Tom heard on Friday morning 
was a glad piece of news — ^Judge Thatcher’s 
family had come back to town the night before. 
Both Injim Joe and the treasure sank into secondary 
importance for a moment, and Becky took the chief 
place in the boy’s interest. He saw her, and they 
had an exhausting good time playing “hi-spy” and 
‘‘gully-keeper” with a crowd of their schoolmates. 
The day was completed and crowned in a peculiarly 
satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to ap- 
point the next day for the long-promised and long- 
delayed picnic, and she consented. The child’s 
delight was botmdless; and Tom’s not more moder- 
ate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, 
and straightway the young folks of the village were 
thrown into a fever of preparation and pleasurable 
anticipation. Tom’s excitement enabled him to 
keep awake imtil a pretty late hour, and he had 
good hopes of hearing Huck’s “maow,” and of 
having his treasure to astonish Becky and the pic- 
nickers with, next day; but he was disappointed. 
No signal came that night. 

Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven 
o’clock a giddy and rollicking company were gath- 
ered at Judge Thatcher’s, and everything was ready 
i6 229 


MARK TWAIN 


for a start. It was not the custom for elderly peo- 
ple to mar picnics with their presence. The children 
were considered safe enough under the wings of a 
few young ladies of eighteen and a few yotmg gen- 
tlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old 
steam - ferryboat was chartered for the occasion; 
presently the gay throng filed up the main street 
laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had 
to miss the fun; Mary remained at home to enter- 
tain him. The last thing Mrs. Thatcher said to 
Becky was: 

“You’ll not get back till late. Perhaps you’d 
better stay all night with some of the girls that live 
near the ferry landing, child.” 

“Then I’ll stay with Susy Harper, mamma.” 

“Very well. And mind and behave yourself and 
don’t be any trouble.” 

Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to 
Becky: 

“Say — I’ll tell you what we’ll do. ’Stead of 
going to Joe Harper’s we’ll climb right up the hill 
and stop at the Widow Douglas’s. She’ll have ice- 
cream! She has it most every day — dead loads of 
it. And she’ll be awful glad to have us.” 

“Oh, that will be ftm!” 

Then Becky reflected a moment and said: 

“But what will mamma say?” 

“How’U she ever know?” 

The girl tinned the idea over in her mind, and 
said reluctantly: 

“I reckon it’s wrong — ^but — ” 

“But shucks! Yoiu: mother won’t know, and so 
230 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

what’s the harm? All she wants is that you’ll be 
safe; and I bet you she’d ’a’ said go there if she’d 
’a’ thought of it. I know she would!” 

The Widow Douglas’s splendid hospitality was a 
tempting bait. It and Tom’s persuasions presently 
carried the day. So it was decided to say noth- 
ing to anybody about the night’s program. Pres- 
ently it occurred to Tom that maybe Huck might 
come this very night and give the signal. The 
thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipa- 
tions. Still he could not bear to give up the fun at 
Widow Douglas’s. And why should he give it up, he 
reasoned — the signal did not come the night be- 
fore, so why should it be any more likely to come 
to-night? The sure fun of the evening outweighed 
the imcertain treasure; and boy like, he determined 
to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow 
himself to think of the box of money another time 
that day. 

Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at 
the mouth of a woody hollow and tied up. The 
crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest distances 
and craggy heights echoed far and near with shout- 
ings and laughter. All the different ways of getting 
hot and tired were gone through with, and by and 
by the rovers straggled back to camp fortified with 
responsible appetites, and then the destruction of 
the good things began. After the feast there was a 
refreshing season of rest and chat in the shade of 
spreading oaks. By and by somebody shouted: 

“Who’s ready for the cave?” 

Everybody was. Bundles of candles were pro- 
231 


MARK TWAIN 


aired, and straightway there was a general scamper 
up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the 
hillside — an opening shaped like a letter A. Its 
massive oaken door stood unbarred. Within was a 
small chamber, chilly as an icehouse, and walled by 
Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a 
cold sweat. It was romantic and mysterious to 
stand here in the deep gloom and look out upon the 
green valley shining in the sim. But the impressive- 
ness of the situation quickly wore off, and the romp- 
ing began again. The moment a candle was lighted 
there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a 
struggle and a gaUant defense followed, but the 
candle was soon knocked down or blown out, and 
then there was a glad clamor of laughter and a new 
chase. But all things have an end. By and by the 
procession went filing down the steep descent of the 
main avenue, the flickering rank of lights dimly 
revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their 
point of jimction sixty feet overhead. This main 
avenue was not more than eight or ten feet wide. 
Every few steps other lofty and still narrower 
aevices branched from it on either hand — ^for Mc- 
Dougal’s cave was but a vast labyrinth of crooked 
aisles that ran into each other and out again and 
led nowhere. It was said that one might wander 
days and nights together through its intricate tangle 
of rifts and chasms, and never find the end of the 
cave; and that he might go down and down, and 
still down, into the earth, and it was just the same — 
labyrinth underneath labyrinth, and no end to any 
of them. No man ‘"knew” the cave. That was 
232 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

an impossible thing. Most of the yoimg men knew 
a portion of it, and it was not customary to venture 
much beyond this known portion. Tom Sawyer 
knew as much of the cave as any one. 

The procession moved along the main avenue 
some three-quarters of a mile, and then groups and 
couples began to slip aside into branch avenues, fly 
along the dismal corridors, and take each other by 
surprise at points where the corridors joined again. 
Parties were able to elude each other for the space 
of half an hour without going beyond the “known’’ 
ground. 

By and by, one group after another came strag- 
gling back to the mouth of the cave, panting, hilari- 
ous, smeared from head to foot with tallow drip- 
pings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with 
the success of the day. Then they were astonished 
to And that they had been taking no note of time 
and that night was about at hand. The clanging 
bell had been calling for half an hour. How- 
ever, this sort of close to the day’s adventures was 
romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the 
ferryboat with her wild freight pushed into the 
stream, nobody cared sixpence for the wasted time 
but the captain of the craft. 

Huck was already upon his watch when the ferry- 
boat’s lights went glinting past the wharf. He heard 
no noise on board, for the yotmg people were as 
subdued and still as people usually are who are 
nearly tired to death. He wondered what boat it 
was, and why she did not stop at the wharf — and 
then he dropped her out of his mind and put his 

233 


MARK TWAIN 


attention upon his business. The night was grow- 
ing cloudy and dark. Ten o'clock came, and the 
noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began to 
wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, 
the village betook itself to its slumbers and left the 
small watcher alone with the silence and the ghosts. 
Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were put 
out ; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what 
seemed a weary long time, but nothing happened. 
His faith was weakening. Was there any use? 
Was there really any use? Why not give it up and 
turn in? 

A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention 
in an instant. The alley door closed softly. He 
sprang to the comer of the brick store. The next 
moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed 
to have something under his arm. It must be that 
box! So they were going to remove the treasure 
Why call Tom now? It would be absurd — the 
men would get away with the box and never be 
found again. No, he would stick to their wake and 
follow them; he would tmst to the darkness for 
security from discovery. So communing with him- 
self, Huck stepped out and glided along behind the 
men, catlike, with bare feet, allowing them to keep 
just far enough ahead not to be invisible. 

They moved up the river street three blocks then 
turned to the left up a cross-street. They went 
straight ahead, then, until they came to the path 
that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They 
passed by the old Welshman's house, half-way up 
the hill, without hesitating, and still climbed upward. 
234 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Good, thought Huck; they will bury it in the old 
quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. 
They passed on, up the summit. They plunged 
into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, 
and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck 
closed up and shortened his distance, now, for they 
would never be able to see him. He trotted along 
awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he was 
gaining too fa^t; moved on a piece, then stopped 
altogether; listened; no soimd; none, save that he 
seemed to hear the beating of his own heart. The 
hooting of an owl came from over the hiU — ominous 
sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was every- 
thing lost! He was about to spring with winged 
feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet 
from him! Huck’s heart shot into his throat, but 
he swallowed it again; and then he stood there 
shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him 
at once, and so weak that he thought he must siu*ely 
fall to the ground. He knew where he was. He 
knew he was within five steps of the stile leading 
into Widow Douglas’s grounds. Very well, he 
thought, let them bury it there; it won’t be hard 
to find. 

Now there was a voice — a very low voice — 
Injun Joe’s: 

“Damn her, maybe she’s got company — ^there’s 
lights, late as it is.” 

“I can’t see any.” 

This was that stranger’s voice — the stranger of 
the haimted house. A deadly chill went to Huck’s 
heart — ^this, then, was the “revenge” job! His 

235 


MARK TWAIN 


thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the 
Widow Douglas had been kind to him more than 
once, and maybe these men were going to murder 
her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but 
he knew he didn’t dare — they might come and 
catch him. He thought all this and more in the 
moment that elapsed between the stranger’s remark 
and Injun Joe’s next — which was — 

“Because the bush is in your way. Now — this 
way — ^now you see, don’t you?” 

“Yes. Well, there is company there, I reckon. 
Better give it up.” 

“Give it up, and I just leaving this coimtry for- 
ever! Give it up and maybe never have another 
chance. I tell you again, as I’ve told you before, I 
don’t care for her swag — ^you may have it. But 
her husband was rough on me — ^many times he was 
rough on me — ^and mainly he was the justice of the 
peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that 
ain’t all. It ain’t a millionth part of it! He had 
me horsewhipped ! — ^horsewhipped in front of the jail, 
like a nigger ! — ^with all the town looking on ! Horse- 
whipped! — do you understand? He took advan- 
tage of me and died. But I’ll take it out of 
herr 

“Oh, don’t kill her! Don’t do that!” 

“Kill? Who said anything a,bout killing? I 
would kill him if he was here; but not her. When 
you want to get revenge on a woman you don’t kill 
her — ^bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her 
nostrils — ^you notch her ears like a sow!” 

“By God, that’s — ” 

236 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

Keep your opinion to yourself ! It will be safest 
for you. I’ll tie her to the bed. If she bleeds to 
death, is th^t my fault? I’ll not cry, if she does. 
My friend, you’ll help in this thing — ^for my sake — 
that’s why you’re here — I mightn’t be able alone. 
If you flinch. I’ll kill you. Do you understand 
that? And if I have to kill you. I’ll kill her — and 
then I reckon nobody ’ll ever know much about who 
done this business.” 

'‘Well, if it’s got to be done, let’s get at it. The 
quicker the better — I’m all in a shiver.” 

"Do it nowf And company there? Look here 
— I’ll get suspicious of you, first thing you know. 
No — we’ll wait till the Hghts are out — there’s no 
hurry.” 

Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue — a 
thing still more awful than any amount of murderous 
talk; so he held his breath and stepped gingerly 
back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after 
balancing, one-legged, in a precarious way and al- 
most toppling over, first on one side and then on 
the other. He took another step back, with the 
same elaboration and the same risks; then another 
and another, and — ^a twig snapped under his foot! 
His breath stopped and he listened. There was no 
sound — the stillness was perfect. His gratitude 
was measiireless. Now he turned in his tracks, be- 
tween the walls of sumach bushes — turned himself 
as carefully as if he were a ship — and then stepped 
quickly but cautiously along. When he emerged 
at the quarry he felt secure, and so he picked up 
his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, tiU 
237 


MARK TWAIN 


he reached the Welshman's. He banged at the 
door, and presently the heads of the old man and 
his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows. 

‘'What's the row there? WIlo's banging? What 
do you want?" 

“Let me in — quick! I'll tell everything." 

“Why, who are you?" 

“Huckleberry Finn — quick, let me in!" 

“Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to 
open many doors, I judge! But let him in, lads, 
and let's see what's the trouble." 

“Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's 
first words when he got in. “Please don’t — I’d 
be killed, stue — ^but the widow’s been good friends 
to me sometimes, and I want to tell — I will tell if 
you'll promise you won't ever say it was me.” 

“By George, he has got something to tell, or he 
wouldn’t act so!" exclaimed the old man; “out with 
it and nobody here’ll ever tell, lad.” 

Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well 
armed, were up the hill, and just entering the 
sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in their hands. 
Huck accompanied them no farther. He hid be- 
hind a great boulder and fell to listening. There 
was a lagging, anxious silence, and then all of a 
sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a 
cry. 

Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away 
and sped down the hill as fast as his legs could carry 
him. 


CHAPTER XXX 



S the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on 


/ \ Sunday morning, Huck came groping up the 
hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman’s door. 
The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was 
set on a hair-trigger, on accoimt of the exciting 
episode of the night. A call came from a window: 

“Who’s there!” 

Huck’s scared voice answered in a low tone: 

“Please let me in! It’s only Huck Finn!” 

“It’s a name that can open this door night or 
day, lad! — and welcome!” 

These were strange words to the vagabond boy’s 
ears, and the pleasantest he had ever heard. He 
could not recollect that the closing word had ever 
been applied in his case before. The door was 
quickly unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given 
a seat and the old man and his brace of tall sons 
speedily dressed themselves. 

“Now, my boy, I hope you’re good and hungry, 
because breakfast will be ready as soon as the sun’s 
up, and we’ll have a piping hot one, too — make 
yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped 
you’d turn up and stop here last night.” 

“I was awful scared,” said Huck, “and I run. 
I took out when the pistols went off, and I didn’t 


MARK TWAIN 


stop for three mile. IVe come now becnz I wanted 
to know about it, you know; and I come before 
daylight becuz I didn't want to nm acrost them 
devils, even if they was dead." 

“Well, poor chap, you do look as if you’d had a 
hard night of it — ^but there’s a bed here for you 
when you’ve had your breakfast. No, they ain’t 
dead, lad — we are sorry enough for that. You see 
we knew right where to put our hands on them, by 
your description; so we crept along on tiptoe till we 
got within fifteen feet of them — dark as a cellar 
that sumach path was — and just then I found I was 
going to sneeze. It was the meanest kind of luck! 
I tried to keep it back, but no use — ’twas boimd to 
come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my 
pistol raised, and when the sneeze started those 
scoundrels a-rustling to get out of the path, I sung 
out, ‘Fire, boys!’ and blazed away at the place 
where the rustling was. So did the boys. But 
they were off in a jiffy, those villains, and we after 
them, down through the woods. I judge we never 
touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they 
started, but their bullets whizzed by and didn’t do 
us any harm. As soon as we lost the sound of their 
feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up 
the constables. They got a posse together, and 
went off to guard the river-bank, and as soon as it is 
light the sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the 
woods. My boys will be with them presently. I 
wish we had some sort of description of those ras- 
cals — ’twould help a good deal. But you couldn’t 
see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?" 

240 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER' 

“Oh, yes, I saw them down-town and follered 
them.” 

“Splendid! Describe them — describe them, my 
boy!” 

“One’s the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that’s 
ben around here once or twice, and t ’other’s a mean- 
looking, ragged — ” 

“That’s enough, lad, we know the men! Hap- 
pened on them in the woods back of the widow’s 
one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, 
and tell the sheriff — ^get your breakfast to-morrow 
morning!” 

The Welshman’s sons departed at once. As they 
were leaving the room Huck sprang up and ex- 
claimed : 

“Oh, please don’t tell anybody it was me that 
blowed on them! Oh, please!” 

“All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to 
have the credit of what you did.” 

“Oh, no, no! Please don’t tell!” 

When the young men were gone, the old Welsh- 
man said: 

“They won’t tell — and I won’t. But why don’t 
you want it known?” 

Huck would not explain, further than to say that 
he already knew too much about one of those men 
and would not have the man know that he knew 
anything against him for the whole world — ^he would 
be killed for knowing it, sure. 

The old man promised secrecy once more, and said : 

“How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? 
Were they looking suspicious?” 

241 


MARK TWAIN 


Hack was silent while he framed a duly cautious 
reply. Then he said: 

‘‘Well, you see, I’m a kind of a hard lot — ^least 
everybody says so, and I don’t see nothing agin it — 
and sometimes I can’t sleep much on accoimts of 
thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a 
new way of doing. That was the way of it last 
night. I couldn’t sleep, and so I come along up 
street ’bout midnight, a-tuming it all over, and 
when I got to that old shackly brick store by the 
Temperance Tavern, I backed up agin the wall to 
have another think. Well, just then along comes 
these two chaps slipping along close by me, with 
something imder their arm and I reckoned they’d 
stole it. One was a-smoking, and t’other one wanted 
a light; so they stopped right before me and the 
cigars lit up their faces and I see that the big one 
was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, by his white 
whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t’other one 
was a rusty, ragged-looking devil.” 

“Could you see the rags by the light of the 
cigars?” 

This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said : 

“Well, I don’t know — ^but somehow it seems as 
if I did.” 

“Then they went on, and you—” 

“Follered ’em — ^yes. That was it. I wanted to 
see what was up — they sneaked along so. I dogged 
’em to the widder’s stile, and stood in the dark and 
heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the 
Spaniard swear he’d spile her looks just as I told 
you and your two — ” 


242 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

'‘What! The deaf and dumb man said all that!*' 

Huck had made another terrible mistake! He 
was trying his best to keep the old man from getting 
the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might be, and 
yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into 
trouble in spite of all he could do. He made several 
efforts to creep out of his scrape, but the old man’s 
eye was upon him and he made blunder after blimder. 
Presently the Welshman said : 

"My boy, don’t be afraid of me. I wouldn’t 
hurt a hair of your head for all the world. No — 
I’d protect you — I’d protect you. This Spaniard 
is not deaf and dumb; you’ve let that slip withoi^t 
intending it; you can’t cover that up now. You 
know something about that Spaniard that you want 
to keep dark. Now trust me — tell me what it is, 
and trust me — I won’t betray you.” 

Huck looked into the old man’s honest eyes a 
moment, then bent over and whispered in his 
ear: 

"’Tain’t a Spaniard — ^it’s Injim Joe!” 

The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. 
In a moment he said: 

"It’s aU plain enough, now. When you talked 
about notching ears and slitting noses I judged that 
that was 3^our own embellishment, because white 
men don’t take that sort of revenge. But an Injun ! 
That’s a different matter altogether.” 

During breakfast the talk went on, and in the 
course of it the old man said that the last thing 
which he and his sons had done, before going to 
bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and 
243 


MARK TWAIN 


its vicinity for marks of blood. They found none, 
but captured a bulky bimdle of — 

*‘0f WHAT?’* 

If the words had been lightning they could not 
have leaped with a more stunning suddenness from 
Huck’s blanched lips. His eyes were staring wide, 
now, and his breath suspended — waiting for the 
answer. The Welshman started — stared in return 
— three seconds — five seconds — ten — then re- 
plied: 

‘ ‘ Of burglar’s tools. Why, what’s the matter with 
you?” 

Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, 
unutterably grateful. The Welshman eyed him 
gravely, curiously — and presently said: 

“Yes, burglar’s tools. That appears to relieve 
you a good deal. But what did give you that turn ? 
What were you expecting we’d foimd?” 

Huck was in a close place — ^the inquiring eye 
was upon him — ^he would have given anything for 
material for a plausible answer — nothing suggested 
itself — the inquiring eye was boring deeper and 
deeper — a senseless reply offered — there was no 
time to weigh it, so at a venture he uttered it — 
feebly : 

“Simday-school books, maybe.” 

Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the 
old man laughed loud and joyously, shook up the 
details of his anatomy from head to foot, and ended 
by saying that such a laugh was money in a man’s 
pocket, because it cut down the doctor’s bills like 
everything. Then he added: 

244 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Poor old chap, you’re white and jaded — ^you 
ain’t well a bit — ^no wonder you’re a little flighty 
and off your balance. But you’ll come out of it. 
Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope.” 

Huck was irritated to think he had been such, a 
goose and betrayed such a suspicious excitement, for 
he had dropped the idea that the parcel brought 
from the tavern was the treasiure, as soon as he had 
heard the talk at the widow’s stile. He had only 
thought it was not the treasure, however — he had not 
known that it wasn’t — and so the suggestion of a 
captured bundle was too much for his self-posses- 
sion. But on the whole he felt glad the little epi- 
sode had happened, for now he knew beyond all 
question that that bundle was not the bundle, and so 
his mind was at rest and exceedingly comfortable. 
In fact, everything seemed to be drifting just in the 
right direction, now; the treasure must be still in 
No. 2, the men would be captiured and jailed that 
day, and he and Tom could seize the gold that night 
without any trouble or any fear of interruption. 

Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock 
at the door. Huck jiunped for a hiding-place, for 
he had no mind to be connected even remotely with 
the late event. The Welshman admitted several 
ladies and gentlemen, among them the Widow 
Douglas, and noticed that groups of citizens were 
climbing up the hill — to stare at the stile. So the 
news had spread. 

The Welshman had to tell the story of the night 
to the visitors. The widow’s gratitude for her 
preservation was outspoken. 

245 


MARK TWAIN 


**Don*t say a word about it, madam. There’s 
another that you’re more beholden to than you are 
to me and my boys, maybe, but he don’t allow me 
to tell his name. We wouldn’t have been there but 
for him.” 

Of coiu*se this excited a curiosity so vast that it 
almost belittled the main matter — ^but the Welshman 
allowed it to eat into the vitals of his visitors, and 
through them be transmitted to the whole town, for 
he refused to part with his secret. When all else 
had been learned, the widow said: 

*T went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight 
through all that noise. Why didn’t you come and 
wake me?” 

“We judged it wam’t worth while. Those fel- 
lows wam’t likely to come again — ^they hadn’t any 
tools left to work with, and what was the use of 
waking you up and scaring you to death ? My three 
negro men stood guard at your house all the rest of 
the night. They’ve just come back.” 

More visitors came, and the story had to be told 
and retold for a couple of hours more. 

There was no Sabbath-school dtuing day-school 
vacation, but everybody was early at church. The 
stirring event was well canvassed. News came that •> 
not a sign of the two villains had been yet dis- 
covered. When the sermon was finished. Judge 
Thatcher’s wife dropped alongside of Mrs. Harper 
as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and 
said: 

“Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just 
expected she would be tired to death.” 

2d6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Your Becky ?’^ 

“Yes,’’ with a startled look — “didn’t she stay 
with you last night?” 

“Why, no.” 

Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, 
just as Aimt Polly, talking briskly with a friend, 
passed by. Aunt Polly said: 

“Good morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good morning, 
Mrs. Harper. I’ve got a boy that’s turned up 
missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house 
last night — one of you. And now he’s afraid to 
come to church. I’ve got to settle with him.” 

Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned 
paler than ever. 

“He didn’t stay with us,” said Mrs. Harper, 
beginning to look uneasy. A marked anxiety came 
into Aimt Polly’s face. 

“Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning ?” 

“No’m.” 

“When did you see him last?” 

Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could 
say. The people had stopped moving out of church. 
Whispers passed along, and a boding imeasiness 
took possession of every countenance. Children 
were anxiously questioned, and young teachers. 
They all said they had not noticed whether Tom and 
Becky were on board the ferryboat on the home- 
ward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring 
if any one was missing. One yoimg man finally 
blurted out his fear that they were still in the cave! 
Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to 
crying and wringing her hands. 

247 


MARK TWAIN 


The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to 
group, from street to street;, and within five minutes 
the bells were wildly clanging and the whole town 
was up ! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant 
insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses 
were saddled, skiffs were manned, the ferryboat 
ordered out, and before the horror was half an hour 
old two hundred men were pouring down highroad 
and river toward the cave. 

All the long afternoon the village seemed empty 
and dead. Many women visited Aunt Polly and 
Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They 
cried with them, too, and that was still better than 
words. All the tedious night the town waited for 
news; but when the morning dawned at last, all the 
word that came was, “Send more candles — and 
send food.” Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and 
Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher sent messages of 
hope and encouragement from the cave, but they 
conveyed no real cheer. 

The old Welshman came home toward daylight, 
spattered with candle-grease, smeared with clay, and 
almost worn out. He foimd Huck still in the bed 
that had been provided for him, and delirious with 
fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the 
Widow Douglas came and took charge of the pa- 
tient. She said she would do her best by him, 
because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, 
he was the Lord’s, and nothing that was the Lord’s 
was a thing to be neglected. The Welshman said 
Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said : 

“You can depend on it. That’s the Lord’s 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

mark. He don’t leave it off. He never does. 
Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes 
from His hands.” 

Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began 
to straggle into the village, but the strongest of the 
citizens continued searching. All the news that 
could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern 
were being ransacked that had never been visited 
before; that every comer and crevice was going to 
be thoroughly searched; that wherever one wandered 
through the maze of passages, lights were to be 
seen flitting hither and thither in the distance, and 
shoutings and pistol-shots sent their hollow rever- 
berations to the ear down the somber aisles. In one 
place, far from the section usually traversed by 
tourists, the names “Becky & Tom” had been 
found traced upon the rocky wall with candle-smoke, 
and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. 
Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. 
She said it was the last relic she should ever have of 
her child; and that no other memorial of her could 
ever be so precious, because this one parted latest 
from the living body before the awful death came. 
Some said that now and then, in the cave, a far- 
away speck of light would glimmer, and then a 
glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men 
go trooping down the echoing aisle — and then a 
sickening disappointment always followed; the chil- 
dren were not there; it was only a searcher’s light. 

Three dreadful days and nights dragged their 
tedious hours along, and the village sank into a 
hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. 

249 


MARK TWAIN 


The accidental discovery, just made, that the pro- 
prietor of the Temperance Tavern kept liquor on 
his premises, scarcely fluttered the public pulse, tre- 
mendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck 
feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and Anally 
asked — dimly dreading the worst — ^if anything had 
been discovered at the Temperance Tavern since he 
had been ill. 

“Yes,” said the widow. 

Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed : 

“What! What was it?” 

“Liquor! — ^and the place has been shut up. Lie 
down, child — ^what a turn you did give me!” 

“Only tell me just one thing — only just one — 
please! Was it Tom Sawyer that found it?” 

The widow burst into tears. “Hush, hush, child, 
hush! IVe told ^’^ou before, you must not talk. 
You are very, very sick!” 

Then nothing but liquor had been found; there 
would have been a great powwow if it had been 
the gold. So the treasure was gone forever — gone 
forever! But what could she be crying about? 
Curious that she should cry. 

These thoughts worked their dim way through 
Huck’s mind, and under the weariness they gave 
him he fed asleep. The widow said to herself: 

“There — ^he’s asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer 
And it! Pity but somebody could And Tom Saw- 
yer ! Ah, there ain’t many left, now, that’s got 
hope enough, or strength enough, either, to go on 
searching.” 


CHAPTER XXXI 


N OW to retiim to Tom and Becky’s share in the 
picnic. They tripped along the murky aisles 
with the rest of the company, visiting the familiar 
wonders of the cave — ^wonders dubbed with rather 
over-descriptive names, such as ‘'The Drawing- 
Room,” “The Cathedral,” “Aladdin’s Palace,” and 
so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolicking be- 
gan, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal 
until the exertion began to grow a trifle wearisome; 
then they wandered down a sinuous avenue holding 
their candles aloft and reading the tangled web- 
work of names, dates, post-office addresses, and 
mottoes with which the rocky walls had been fres- 
coed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along and 
talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now 
in a part of the cave whose walls were not frescoed. 
They smoked their own names under an overhanging 
shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a 
place where a little stream of water, trickling over a 
ledge and carrying a Hmestone sediment with it, 
had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced and 
ruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. 
Tom squeezed his small body behind it in order to 
illuminate it for Becky’s gratification. He foimd 
that it curtained a sort of steep natural stairway 

251 


MARK TWAIN 


which was inclosed between narrow walls, and at 
once the ambition to be a discoverer seized him. 
Becky responded to his call, and they made a smoke- 
mark for future giiidance, and started upon their 
quest. They wound this way and that, far down 
into the secret depths of the cave, made another 
mark, and branched off in search of novelties to tell 
the upper world about. In one place they found a 
spacious cavern, from whose ceiling depended a mul- 
titude of shining stalactites of the length and circum- 
ference of a man’s leg; they walked all about it, 
wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one 
of the numerous passages that opened into it. This 
shortly brought them to a bewitching spring, whose 
basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering 
crystals ; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls 
were supported by many fantastic pillars which had 
been formed by the joining of great stalactites and 
stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless water- 
drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats 
had packed themselves together, thousands in a 
bunch; the lights disturbed the creatures, and they 
came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and dart- 
ing furiously at the candles. Tom knew’’ their ways 
and the danger of this sort of conduct. He seized 
Becky’s hand and hturied her intc^the first corridor 
that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struck 
Becky’s light out with its wing while she was passing 
out of the cavern. The bats chased the children a 
good distance; but the fugitives plunged into every 
new passage that offered, and at last got rid of the 
perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, 
252 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

shortly, which stretched its dim length away until 
its shape was lost in the shadows. He wanted to 
explore its borders, but concluded that it would be 
best to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for 
the first time, the deep stillness of the place laid a 
clammy hand upon the spirits of the children. 
Becky said: 

*'Why, I didn’t notice, but it seems ever so long 
since I heard of any of the others.” 

”Come to think, Becky, we are away down be- 
low them — and I don’t know how far away north, 
or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn’t 
hear them here.” 

Becky grew apprehensive. 

‘T wonder how long we’ve been down here, Tom. 
We better start back.” 

‘‘Yes, I reckon we better. P’raps we better.” 

‘‘Can you find the way, Tom? It’s all a mixed- 
up crookedness to me.” 

“I reckon I could find it — ^but then the bats. If 
they put both our candles out it will be an awful 
fix. Let’s try some other way, so as not to go 
through there.” 

“Well. But I hope we won’t get lost. It would 
be so awful!” and the girl shuddered at the thought 
of the dreadful possibilities. 

They started through a corridor, and traversed it 
in silence a long way, glancing at each new opening 
to see if there was anything familiar about the look 
of it; but they were all strange. Every time Tom 
made an examination, Becky would watch his face 
for an encouraging sign, and he would say cheerily: 

253 


MARK TWAIN 


‘'Oh, it’s all right. This ain’t the one, but we’ll 
come to it right away!” 

But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, 
and presently began to turn off into diverging ave- 
nues at sheer random, in desperate hope of finding 
the one that was wanted. He still said it was ''all 
right,” but there was such a leaden dread at his 
heart that the words had lost their ring and sounded 
just as if he had said, "All is lost!” Becky climg 
to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to 
keep back the tears, but they would come. At last 
she said : 

"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let’s go back 
that way! We seem to get worse and worse off all 
the time.” 

Tom stopped. 

"Listen!” said he. 

Profound silence; silence so deep that even their 
breathings were conspicuous in the hush. Tom 
shouted. The call went echoing down the empty 
aisles and died out in the distance in a faint soimd 
that resembled a ripple of mocking laughter. 

"Oh, don’t do it again, Tom, it is too horrid,”' 
said Becky. 

"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might 
hear us, you know,” and he shouted again. 

The "might” was even a chillier horror than the 
ghostly laughter, it so confessed a perishing hope. 
The children stood still and listened; but there was 
no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, 
and hurried his steps. It was but a Httle while be- 
fore a certain indecision in his manner revealed an- 
2S4 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

other fearful fact to Becky — ^he could not find his 
way back! 

“Oh, Tom, you didn’t make any marks!” 

“Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I 
never thought we might want to come back! No— 
I can't find the way. It’s all mixed up.” 

“Tom, Tom, we’re lost! we’re lost! We never 
can get out of this awful place! Oh, why did we 
ever leave the others!” 

She sank to the ground and burst into such a 
frenzy of crying that Tom was appalled with the 
idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He sat 
down by her- and put his arms around her; she 
buried her face in his bosom, she clung to him, she 
poured out her terrors, her unavailing regrets, and 
the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. 
Tom begged her to pluck up hope again, and she 
said she could not. He fell to blaming and abusing 
himself for getting her into this miserable situation; 
this had a better effect. She said she wotdd try to 
hope again, she would get up and follow wherever 
he might lead if only he would not talk like that any 
more. For he was no more to blame than she, she 
said. 

So they moved on again — ^aimlessly — simply at 
random — ^all they could do was to move, keep 
moving. For a little while, hope made a show of 
reviving — ^not with any reason to back it, but only 
because it is its nature to revive when the spring has 
not been taken out of it by age and familiarity with 
failure. 

By and by Tom took Becky’s candle and blew it 
2SS 


I 


MARK TWAIN 


out. This economy meant so much 1 Words were not 
needed. Becky understood, and her hope died again. 
She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or 
four pieces in his pockets — ^yet he must economize. 

By and by, fatigue began to assert its claims ; the 
children tried to pay no attention, for it was dread- 
ful to think of sitting down when time was grown to 
be so precious; moving, in some direction, in any 
direction, was at least progress and might bear 
fruit; but to sit down was to invite death and 
shorten its pmsuit. 

At last Becky’s frail limbs refused to carry her 
farther. She sat down. Tom rested with her, and 
they talked of home, and the friends there, and the 
comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky 
cried, and Tom tried to think of some way of com- 
forting her, but all his encouragements were grown 
threadbare with use, and soimded like sarcasms. 
Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed 
off to sleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking 
into her drawn face and saw it grow smooth and 
natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; and 
by and by a smile dawned and rested there. The 
peaceful face reflected somewhat of peace and heal- 
ing into his own spirit, and his thoughts wandered 
away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While 
he was deep in his musings, Becky woke up with a 
breezy little laugh — ^but it was stricken dead upon 
her lips, and a groan followed it. 

*‘Oh, how could I sleep! I wish I never, never 
had waked! No! No, I don’t, Tom! Don’t look 
so! I won’t say it again.” 

256 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, 
now, and we 'll find the way out.” 

“We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful 
country in my dream. I reckon we are going there.” 

“Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and 
let's go on trying.” 

They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand 
and hopeless. They tried to estimate how long 
they had been in the cave, but all they knew was 
that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain 
that this could not be, for their candles were not 
gone yet. A long time after this — they could not 
tell how long — ^Tom said they must go softly and 
listen for dripping water — ^they must find a spring. 
They found one presently, and Tom said it was time 
to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky 
said she thought she could go on a little farther. 
She was surprised to hear Tom dissent. She could 
not understand it. They sat down, and Tom 
fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with 
some clay. Thought was soon busy; nothing was 
said for some time. Then Becky broke the silence: 

“Tom, I am so hungry!” 

Tom took something out of his pocket. 

“Do you remember this?” said he. 

Becky almost smiled. 

Tt's our wedding-cake, Tom.” 

“Yes — I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it’s 
all we've got.” 

“I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, 
Tom, the way grown-up people do with wedding- 
cake — ^but it 'll be our — ” 




MARK TWAIN 


She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom 
divided the cake and Becky ate with good appetite, 
while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was 
abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. 
By and by Becky suggested that they move on 
again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he said: 

“Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?'’ 

Becky's face paled, but she thought she could. 

“Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where 
there’s water to drink. That little piece is our last 
candle!" 

Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did 
what he could to comfort her, but with little effect. 
At length Becky said: 

“Tom!" 

“Well, Becky?" 

“They'll miss us and himt for us!" 

“Yes, they will ! Certainly they will !’ * 

“Maybe they're htmting for us now, Tom." 

“Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they 
are." 

“When would they miss us, Tom?" 

“When they get back to the boat, I reckon." 

“Tom, it might be dark then — ^would they notice 
we hadn't come?" 

“I don’t know. But anyway, your mother would 
miss you as soon as they got home." 

A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom 
to his senses and he saw that he had made a blunder. 
Becky was not to have gone home that night! 
The children became silent and thoughtful. In a 
moment a new burst of grief from Becky showed 
258 


ADVENTURES OP TOM SAWYER 

Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers 
also — that the Sabbath morning might be half 
spent before Mrs. Thatcher discovered that Becky 
was not at Mrs. Harper’s. 

The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of 
candle and watched it melt slowly and pitilessly 
away; saw the half -inch of wick stand alone at last; 
saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin 
column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and 
then — the horror of utter darkness reigned! 

How long afterward it was that Becky came to 
a slow consciousness that she was crying in Tom’s 
arms, neither could tell. All that they knew was,l 
that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time,; 
both awoke out of a dead stupor of sleep and re- 
sumed their miseries once more. Tom said it 
might be Simday, now — ^maybe Monday. He tried 
to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too 
oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said that 
they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt 
the search was gomg on. He would shout and 
maybe some one would come. He tried it; but in 
the darkness the distant echoes sotmded so hideously 
that he tried it no more. 

The hours wasted away, and hunger came to 
torment the captives again. A portion of Tom’s 
half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it. 
But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor 
morsel of food only whetted desire. 

By and by Tom said: 

"''Sh! Did you hear that?’* 

Both held their breath and listened. There was 
259 


MARK TWAIN 


a sound like the faintest, far-off shout. Instantly 
Tom answered it, and, leading Becky by the hand, 
started groping down the corridor in its direction. 
Presently he listened again; again the soimd was 
heard, and apparently a little nearer. 

“It’s them!” said Tom; “they’re coming! Come 
along, Becky — we’re all right now!” 

The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelm- 
ing. Their speed was slow, however, because pit- 
falls were somewhat common, and had to be guarded 
against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. 
It might be three feet deep, it might be a hundred — 
there was no passing it, at any rate. Tom got down 
on his breast and reached as far down as he could. 
No bottom. They must stay there and wait until 
the searchers came. They listened; evidently the 
distant shoutings were growing more distant! a 
moment or two more and they had gone altogether. 
The heart-sinking misery of it ! Tom whooped 
until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He 
talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious 
waiting passed and no sounds came again. 

The children groped their way back to the spring. 
The weary time dragged on; they slept again, and 
awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tom believed it 
must be Tuesday by this time. 

Now an idea struck him. There were some side 
passages near at hand. It would be better to ex- 
plore some of these than bear the weight of the 
heavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from 
his pocket, tied it to a projection, and he and Becky 
started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the line as he 
260 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

groped along. At the end of twenty steps the 
corridor ended in a '‘jumping-off place.’’ Tom got 
down on his knees and felt below, and then as far 
around the comer as he could reach with his hands 
conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a 
little farther to the right, and at that moment, not 
twenty yards away, a human hand, holding a candle, 
appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a 
glorious shout, and instantly that hand was followed 
by the body it belonged to — Injun Joe’s! Tom was 
paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly 
gratified the next moment to see the “Spaniard” 
take to his heels and get himself out of sight. Tom 
wondered that Joe had not recognized his voice and 
come over and killed him for testifying in court. 
But the echoes must have disguised the voice. 
Without doubt, that was it, he reasoned. Tom’s 
fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said 
to himself that if he had strength enough to get 
back to the spring he would stay there, and nothing 
should tempt him to run the risk of meeting Injun 
Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky 
what it was he had seen. He told her he had only 
shouted “for luck.” 

But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears 
in the long mn. Another tedious wait at the spring 
and another long sleep brought changes. The chil- 
dren awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom 
believed that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or 
even Friday or Saturday, now, and that the search 
had been given over. He proposed to explore an- 
other passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe 
jS 261 


MARK TWAIN 


and all other terrors. But Becky was very weak. 
She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not 
be roused. She said she would wait, now, where 
she was, and die — ^it would not be long. She told 
Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he 
chose; but she implored him to come back every 
little while and speak to her; and she made him 
promise that when the awful time came, he would 
stay by her and hold her hand until all was over. 

Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his 
throat, and made a show of being confident of find- 
ing the searchers or an escape from the cave; then 
he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping 
down one of the passages on his hands and knees, 
distressed with hunger and sick with bodings of 
coming doom. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


T uesday afternoon came, and waned to the 
twilight. The village of St. Petersburg still 
mourned. The lost children had not been found. 
Public prayers had been offered up for them, and 
many and many a private prayer that had the peti- 
tioner’s whole heart in it; but still no good news 
came from the cave. The majority of the searchers 
had given up the quest and gone back to their daily 
vocations, saying that it was plain the children 
could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, 
and a great part of the time delirious. People said 
it was heartbreaking to hear her call her child, and 
raise her head and listen a whole minute at a time, 
then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt 
Polly had drooped into a settled melancholy, and 
her gray hair had grown almost white. The village 
went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn. 

Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst 
from the village bells, and in a moment the streets 
were swarming with frantic half-clad people, who 
shouted, “Turn out! turn out! they’re found! 
they’re found!” Tin pans and horns were added 
to the din, the population massed itself and moved 
toward the river, met the children coming in an 
open carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged 
263 


MARK TWAIN 


0,round it, joined its homeward march, and swept 
magnificently up the main street roaring huzzah 
after huzzah ! 

The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed 
again; it was the greatest night the little town had 
ever seen. During the first half-hour a procession 
of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher’s house, 
seized the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed 
Mrs. Thatcher’s hand, tried to speak but couldn’t 
— and drifted out raining tears all over the place. 

Aunt Polly’s happiness was complete, and Mrs. 
Thatcher’s nearly so. It would be complete, how- 
ever, as soon as the messenger despatched with the 
great news to the cave should get the word to her 
husband. Tom lay upon a sofa with an eager 
auditory about him and told the history of the 
wonderful adventme, putting in many striking addi- 
tions to adorn it withal ; and closed with a description 
of how he left Becky and went on an exploring 
expedition; how he followed two avenues as far 
as his kite-line would reach; how he followed a 
third to the fullest stretch of the kite-line, and was 
about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-off speck 
that looked like daylight; dropped the line and 
groped toward it, pushed his head and shoulders 
through a small hole and saw the broad Mississippi 
rolling by! And if it had only happened to be 
night he would not have seen that speck of daylight 
and would not have explored that passage any 
more! He told how he went back for Becky and 
broke the good news and she told him not to fret 
her with such stuff, for she was tired, and knew she 
264 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

was going to die, and wanted to. He described 
how he labored with her and convinced her; and 
how she almost died for joy when she had groped 
to where she actually saw the blue speck of day- 
light; how he pushed his way out at the hole and 
then helped her out; how they sat there and cried 
for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff 
and Tom hailed them and told them their situation 
and their famished condition; how the men didn’t 
believe the wild tale at first, “because,” said they, 
“you are five miles down the river below the valley 
the cave is in” — ^then took them aboard, rowed to 
a house, gave them supper, made them rest till two 
or three hours after dark, and then brought them 
home. 

Before day-dawn. Judge Thatcher and the handful 
of searchers with him were tracked out, in the cave, 
by the twine clews they had strung behind them, 
and informed of the great news. 

Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the 
cave were not to be shaken off at once, as Tom and 
Becky soon discovered. They were bedridden all 
of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow 
more and more tired and worn all the time. Tom 
got about a little on Thursday, was down -town 
Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday; but 
Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and 
then she looked as if she had passed through a 
wasting illness. 

Tom learned of Huck’s sickness and went to see 
him on Friday, but could not be admitted to the 
bedroom; neither could he on Satiurday or Simday. 

265 


MARK TWAIN 


He was admitted daily after that, but was warned 
to keep still about his adventure and introduce no 
exciting topic. The Widow Douglas stayed by to 
see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the 
Cardiff Hill event; also that the “ragged man’s” 
body had eventually been found in the river near 
the ferry landing; he had been drowned while trying 
to escape, perhaps. 

About a fortnight after Tom’s rescue from the 
cave, he started off to visit Huck, who had grown 
plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting talk, 
and Tom had some that would interest him, he 
thought. Judge Thatcher’s house was on Tom’s 
way, and he stopped to see Becky. The Judge and 
some friends set Tom to talking, and some one 
asked him ironically if he wouldn’t like to go to 
the cave again. Tom said he thought he wouldn’t 
mind it. The Judge said: 

“Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I’ve 
not the least doubt. But we have taken care of 
that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any more.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler 
iron two weeks ago, and triple-locked — and I’ve got 
the keys.” 

Tom turned as white as a sheet. 

“What’s the matter, boy! Here, run, some- 
body! Fetch a glass of water!” 

The water was brought and thrown into Tom’s face. 

“Ah, now you’re all right. What was the matter 
with you, Tom?” 

“Oh, Judge, Injun Joe’s in the cave!” 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


W ITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, 
and a dozen skiff -loads of men were on their 
way to McDougal’s cave, and the ferryboat, well 
filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer 
was in the skiff that bore Judge Thatcher. 

When the cave door was tmlocked, a sorrowful 
sight presented itself in the dim twilight of the 
place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the groimd, 
dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as 
if his longing eyes had been fixed, to the latest mo- 
ment, upon the light and the cheer of the free world 
outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own 
experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity 
was moved, but nevertheless he felt an abounding 
sense of relief and security, now, which revealed to 
him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated 
before how vast a weight of dread had been lying 
upon him since the day he lifted his voice against 
this bloody-minded outcast. 

Injim Joe’s bowie-knife lay close by, its blade 
broken in two. The great foimdation-beam of the 
door had been chipped and hacked through, with 
tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the 
native rock formed a sill outside it, and upon that 
.stubborn material the knife had wrought no effect; 
267 


MARK TWAIN 


the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if 
there had been no stony obstruction there the labor 
would have been useless still, for if the beam had 
been wholly cut away Injim Joe could not have 
squeezed his body imder the door, and he knew it. 
So he had only hacked that place in order to be 
doing something — in order to pass the weary time 
— in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordi- 
narily one could find half a dozen bits of candle 
stuck around in the crevices of this vestibule, left 
there by tourists; but there were none now. The 
prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. 
He had also contrived to catch a few bats, and 
these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their claws. 
The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one 
place near at hand, a stalagmite had been slowly 
growing up from the grotmd for ages, builded by 
the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The cap- 
tive had broken off the stalagmite, and upon the 
stump had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped 
a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop that fell 
once in every three minutes with the dreary regu- 
larity of a clock-tick — a dessert-spoonful once in 
four-and-twenty hours. That drop was falling 
when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; 
when the fotmdations of Rome were laid; when 
Christ was crucified; when the Conqueror created 
the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when 
the massacre at Lexington was “news.” It is fall- 
ing now; it will still be falling when all these things 
shall have sunk down the afternoon of history and 
the twilight of tradition and been swallowed up in 
268 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

the thick night of oblivion. Has everything a pur- 
pose and a mission? Did this drop fall patiently 
during five thousand years to be ready for this hit- 
ting human insect's need? and has it another im- 
portant object to accomplish ten thousand years to 
come? No matter. It is many and many a year 
since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone 
to catch the priceless drops, but to this day the 
tourist stares longest at that pathetic stone and that 
slow-dropping water when he comes to see the won- 
ders of McDougal’s Cave. Injun Joe’s cup stands 
first in the list of the cavern’s marvels; even ''Alad- 
din’s Palace” cannot rival it. 

Injim Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; 
and people flocked there in boats and wagons from 
the towns and from all the farms and hamlets for 
seven miles aroimd; they brought their children, 
and all sorts of provisions, and confessed that they 
had had almost as satisfactory a time at the funeral 
as they could have had at the hanging. 

This funeral stopped the further growth of one 
thing — the petition to the Governor for Injim Joe’s 
pardon. The petition had been largely signed; 
many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, 
and a committee of sappy women been appointed to 
go in deep mourning and wail aroimd the Governor, 
and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample 
his duty imder foot. Injun Joe was believed to 
have killed five citizens of the village, but what of 
that? If he had been Satan himself there would 
Iiave been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their 
names to a pardon petition, and drip a tear on it 
269 


MARK TWAIN 

from their permanently impaired and leaky water- 
works. 

The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to 
a private place to have an important talk. Huck 
had learned all about Tom’s adventure from the 
Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, 
but Tom said he reckoned there was one thing they 
had not told him; that thing was what he wanted 
to talk about now. Huck’s face saddened. He 
said: 

“I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and 
never found anything but whisky. Nobody told me 
it was you; but I just knowed it must ’a’ ben you, 
soon as I heard ’bout that whisky business; and I 
knowed you hadn’t got the money becuz you’d ’a^ 
got at me some way or other and told me even if 
you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something’s 
always told me we’d never get holt of that swag.” 

“Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. 
You know his tavern was all right the Saturday I 
went to the picnic. Don’t you remember you was 
to watch there that night?” 

“Oh, yes! Why, it seems ’bout a year ago. It 
was that very night that I follered Injim Joe to the 
widder’s.” 

^'Youi followed him?” 

“Yes — ^but you keep mum. I reckon Injim 
Joe’s left friends behind him, and I don’t want ’em 
souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it 
hadn’t ben for me he’d be down in Texas now, all 
aright.” 

Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence: 

270 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

to Tom, wko had only heard of the Welshmen’s 
part of it before. 

“Well,” said Huck, presently, coming back to 
the main question, “whoever nipped the whisky in 
No. 2 nipped the money, too, I reckon — anyways 
it’s a goner for us, Tom.” 

“Huck, that money wasn’t ever in No. 2!” 

“What!” Huck searched his comrade’s face 
keenly. “Tom, have you got on the track of that 
money again?” 

“Huck, it’s in the cave!” 

Huck’s eyes blazed. 

“Say it again, Tom.” 

“The money’s in the cave!” 

“Tom — ^honest injun, now — is it fun or ear- 
nest?” 

“Earnest, Huck — just as earnest as ever I was in 
my life. Will you go in there with me and help get 
it out?” 

“I bet I will! I will if it’s where we can blaze 
our way to it and not get lost.” 

“Huck, we can do that without the least little 
bit of trouble in the world.” 

“Good as wheat! What makes you think the 
money’s — ” 

“Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we 
don’t find it I’ll agree to give you my drum and 
everything I’ve got in the world. I will, by jings.” 

“All right — ^it’s a whiz. Wlien do you say?” 

“Right now, if you say it. Are you strong 
enough?” 

“Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, 
271 


MARK TWAIN 


three or four days, now, but I can’t walk more’n a 
mile, Tom — least I don’t think I could.” 

“It’s about five mile into there the way anybody 
but me would go, Huck, but there’s a mighty short 
cut that they don’t anybody but me know about. 
Huck, I’ll take you right to it in a skiff. I’ll float 
the skiff down there, and I’ll pull it back again all 
by myself. You needn’t ever turn your hand over.” 

“Less start right off, Tom.” 

“All right. We want some bread and meat, and 
our pipes, and a Httle bag or two, and two or three 
kite-strings, and some of these new-fangled things 
they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many’s the 
time I wished I had some when I was in there 
before.” 

A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small 
skiff from a citizen who was absent, and got imder 
way at once. When they were several miles below 
“Cave Hollow,” Tom said: 

“Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all 
the way down from the cave hollow — no houses, no 
woodyards, bushes all alike. But do you see that 
white place up yonder where there’s been a land- 
slide? Well, that’s one of my marks. We’ll get 
ashore, now.” 

They landed. 

“Now, Huck, where we’re a-standing you could 
touch that hole I got out of with a fishing-pole. 
See if you can And it.” 

Huck searched all the place about, and found 
nothing. Tom proudly marched into a thick clump 
of sumach bushes and said: 

272 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it’s the snug- 
gest hole in this country. You just keep mum 
about it. All along I’ve been wanting to be a 
robber, but I knew I’d got to have a thing like this, 
and where to run across it was the bother. We’ve 
got it now, and we’ll keep it quiet, only we’ll let 
Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in — because of course 
there’s got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn’t be 
any style about it. Tom Sawyer’s Gang — ^it sounds 
splendid, don’t it, Huck?” 

“Well, it just does, Tom. And who’ll we rob?” 

“Oh, most anybody. Waylay people — that’s 
mostly the way.” 

“And kill them?” 

“No, not always. Hive them in the cave till 
they raise a ransom.” 

“What’s a ransom?” 

“Money. You make them raise all they can, 
off’n their friends; and after you’ve kept them a 
year, if it ain’t raised then you kiU them. That’s 
the general way. Only you don’t kill the women. 
You shut up the women, but you don’t kill them. 
They’re always beautiful and rich, and awfully 
scared. You take their watches and things, but 
you always take yotu- hat off and talk poHte. They 
ain’t anybody as poHte as robbers — ^you’ll see that 
in any book. WeU, the women get to loving you, 
and after they’ve been in the cave a week or two 
weeks they stop crying and after that you couldn’t 
get them to leave. If you drove them out they’d 
turn right aroimd and come back. It’s so in all 
the books.” 


273 


MARK TWAIN 


*‘Why, it’s real bully, Tom. I b’lieve it’s better’n 
to be a pirate.” 

**Yes, it’s better in some ways, because it’s close 
to home and circuses and all that.” 

By this time everything was ready and the boys 
entered the hole, Tom in the lead. They toiled 
their way to the farther end of the timnel, then made 
their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few 
steps brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a 
shudder quiver all through him. He showed Huck 
the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of 
clay against the wall, and described how he and 
Becky had watched the flame struggle and expire. 

The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, 
for the stillness and gloom of the place oppressed 
their spirits. They went on, and presently entered 
and followed Tom’s other corridor until they reached 
the “jumping-off place.” The candles revealed the 
fact that it was not really a precipice, but only a 
steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet high. Tom 
whispered : 

“Now I’ll show you something, Huck.” 

He held his candle aloft and said: 

“Look as far aroimd the comer as you can. Do 
you see that? There — on the big rock over yonder 
— done with candle-smoke.” 

“Tom, it’s a crossr 

*^Now where’s your Number Two? 'Under the 
cross' hey? Right yonder’s where I saw Injim Joe 
poke up his candle, Huck!” 

Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then 
said with a shaky voice : 


274 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


“Tom, le’s git out of here!” 

“What! and leave the treasure?” 

“Yes — ^leave it. Injun Joe’s ghost is round 
about there, certain.” 

“No it ain’t, Huck, no it ain’t. It would ha’nt 
the place where he died — away out at the mouth 
of the cave — ^five mile from here.” 

“No, Tom, it wouldn’t. It would hang round 
the money. I know the ways of ghosts, and so do 
you.” 

Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Mis- 
givings gathered in his mind. But presently an idea 
occurred to him — 

“Looky here, Huck, what fools we’re making of 
ourselves! Injun Joe’s ghost ain’t a-going to come 
around where there’s a cross!” 

The point was well taken. It had its effect. 

“Tom, I didn’t think of that. But that’s so. 
It’s luck for us, that cross is. I reckon we’ll climb 
down there and have a himt for that box.” 

Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill 
as he descended. Huck followed. Four avenues 
opened out of the small cavern which the great rock 
stood in. The boys examined three of them with 
no result. They found a small recess in the one 
nearest the base of the rock, with a pallet of blan- 
kets spread down in it; also an old suspender, 
some bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of 
two or three fowls. But there was no money-box. 
The lads searched and re-searched this place, but 
in vain. Tom said: 

“He said under the cross. Well, this comes 

275 


MARK TWAIN 


nearest to being under the cross. It can’t be under 
the rock itself, because that sets solid on the ground.” 

They searched everywhere once more, and then 
sat down discouraged. Huck could suggest noth- 
ing. By and by Tom said: 

“Looky here, Huck, there’s footprints and some 
candle-grease on the clay about one side of this 
rock, but not on the other sides. Now, what’s that 
for? I bet you the money is imder the rock. I’m 
going to dig in the clay.” 

“That ain’t no bad notion, Tom!” said Huck 
with animation. 

Tom’s “real Barlow” was out at once, and he 
had not dug four inches before he struck wood. 

“Hey, Huck! — ^you hear that?” 

Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some 
boards were soon imcovered and removed. They 
had concealed a natmal chasm which led tmder the 
rock. Tom got into this and held his candle as 
far imder the rock as he could, but said he could 
not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to ex- 
plore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow 
way descended gradually. He followed its winding 
coiu*se, first to the right, then to the left, Huck at 
his heels. Tom turned a short ciuve, by and by, 
and exclaimed: 

“My goodness, Huck, looky here!” 

It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying 
a snug little cavern, along with an empty x>owder- 
keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two or three 
pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some 
other rubbish well soaked with the water-drip. 

27 $ 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

‘‘Got it at last!’^ said Huck, plowing among the 
tarnished coins with his hand. “My, but weVe 
rich, Tom!” 

“Huck, I always reckoned we’d get it. It’s just 
too good to believe, but we have got it, sure! Say 
— ^let’s not fool around here. Let’s snake it out. 
Lemme see if I can lift the box.” 

It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift 
it, after an awkward fashion, but could not carry it 
conveniently. 

“I thought so,” he said; ^Hhey carried it like it 
was heavy, that day at the ha’nted house. I noticed 
that. I reckon I was right to think of fetching the 
little bags along.” 

The money was soon in the bags and the boys 
took it up to the cross rock. 

“Now le’s fetch the guns and things,” said 
Huck. 

“No, Huck — ^leave them there. They’re just the 
tricks to have when we go to robbing. We’ll keep 
them there all the time, and we’ll hold our orgies 
there, too. It’s an awful snug place for orgies.” 

“What’s orgies?” i'' 

“I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and 
of course we’ve got to have them, too. Come 
along, Huck; we’ve been in here a long time. It’s 
getting late, I reckon. I’m hungry, too. We’ll 
eat and smoke when we get to the skiff.” 

They presently emerged into the clump of sumach 
bushes, looked warily out, foimd the coast clear, 
and were soon Itmching and smoking in the skiff. 
As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed 

r9 277 


MARK TWAIN 


out and got under way. Tom skimmed up the 
shore through the long twilight, chatting cheerily 
with Huck, and landed shortly after dark. 

“Now, Huck,” said Tom, “we’ll hide the money 
in the loft of the widow’s woodshed, and I’ll come 
up in the morning and we’ll count it and divide, and 
then we’ll hunt up a place out in the woods for it 
where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and 
watch the stj^fE till I run and hook Benny Taylor’s 
little wagon won’t be gone a minute.” 

He disappeared, and presently returned with the 
wagon, put the two small sacks into it, threw some 
old rags on top of them, and started off, dragging 
his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the 
Welshman’s house, they stopped to rest. Just as 
they were about to move on, the Welshman stepped 
out and said: 

“Hello, who’s that?” 

“Huck and Tom Sawyer.” 

“Good! Come along with me, boys; you are 
keeping everybody waiting. Here — ^hurry up, trot 
'fihead — I’ll haul the wagon for you. Why, it’s 
nc^as light as it might be. Got bricks in it? — or 
joKrmetal?” 

“Old metal,” said Tom. 

“I judged so; the boys in this town will take 
more trouble and fool away more time hunting up 
six bits’ worth of old iron to sell to the foundry 
than they would to make twice the money at regular 
work. But that’s human nature — hurry along, 
hurry along!” 

The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about. 

U‘32> 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Never mind; you’ll see when we get to the 
Widow Douglas’s.” 

Huck said with some apprehension — ^for he was 
long used to being falsely accused: 

“Mr. Jones, we haven’t been doing nothing.” 

The Welshman laughed. 

“Well, I don’t know, Huck, my boy. I don’t 
know about that. Ain’t you and the widow good 
friends?” 

“Yes. Well, she’s ben good friends to me, any- 
ways.” 

“All right, then. What do you want to be afraid 
for?” 

This question was not entirely answered in Huck’s 
slow mind before he found himself pushed, along 
with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas’s drawing-room. Mr. 
Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. 

The place was grandly lighted, and everybody 
that was of any consequence in the village was 
there. The Thatchers were there, the Harpers, the 
Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the 
editor, and a great many more, and all dressed-ift 
their best. The widow received the boys as hesfe^y 
as any one could well receive two such loofemg" 
beings. They were covered with clay and candle- 
grease. Aunt Polly blushed crimson with humilia- 
tion, and frowned and shook her head at Tom. 
Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, 
however. Mr. Jones said: 

“Tom wasn’t at home, yet, so I gave him up; 
but I stumbled on him and Huck right at my door, 
and so I just brought them along in a hurry.” 

279 


MARK TWAIN 


‘ ‘ And you did just right, ’ ' said the widow. ‘ ‘ Come 
with me, boys.” 

She took them to a bedchamber and said : 

“Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two 
new suits of clothes — shirts, socks, everything com- 
plete. They’re Huck’s — ^no, no thanks, Huck — 
Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they’ll 
fit both of you. Get into them. We’ll wait— ^ 
come down when you are sHcked up enough.” 

Then she left. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 


H UCK said: “Tom, we can slope, if we can find 
a rope. The window ain’t high from the 
ground.” 

“Shucks, what do you want to slope for?” 

“Well, I ain’t used to that kind of a crowd. I 
can’t stand it. I ain’t going down there, Tom.” 

“Oh, bother! It ain’t anything. I don’t mind 
it a bit. I’ll take care of you.” 

Sid appeared. 

“Tom,” said he, “atmtie has been waiting for 
you all the afternoon. Mary got 3^our Sunday 
clothes ready, and everybody’s been fretting about 
you. Say— ain’t this grease and clay, on your 
clothes?” 

“Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist ’tend to your own 
business. What’s all this blow-out about, anyway?” 

“It’s one of the widow’s parties that she’s always 
having. This time it’s for the Welshman and his 
sons, on account of that scrape they helped her out 
of the other night. And say — I can tell you some- 
thing, if you want to know.” 

“Well, what?” 

“Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring 
something on the people here to-night, but I over- 
heard him tell auntie to-day about it, as a secret, 
281 


MARK TWAIN 


but I reckon it’s not much of a secret now. Every- 
body knows — ^the 'widow, too, for all she tries to 
let on she don’t. Mr. Jones was boimd Huck should 
be here — couldn’t get along with his grand secret 
without Huck, you know!” 

‘'Secret about what, Sid?” 

“About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow’s. 
I reckon Mr. Jones was going to make a grand time 
over his siuprise, but I bet you it will drop pretty 
flat.” 

Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way. 

“Sid, was it you that told?” 

“Oh, never mind who it was. Somebody told — 
that’s enough.” 

“Sid, there’s only one person in this town mean 
enough to do that, and that’s you. If you had been 
in Huck’s place you’d ’a’ sneaked down the hill and 
never told anybody on the robbers. You can’t do 
any but mean things, and you can’t bear to see 
anybody praised for doing good ones. There — ^no 
thanks, as the widow says” — and Tom cuffed Sid’s 
ears and helped him to the door with several kicks. 
“Now go and tell aimtie if you dare — ^and to- 
morrow you’ll catch it!” 

Some minutes later the widow’s guests were at the 
supper-table, and a dozen children were propped up 
at little side-tables in the same room, after the 
fashion of that coruitry and that day. At the proper 
time Mr. Jones made his little speech, in which he 
thanked the widow for the honor she was doing 
himself and his sons, but said that there was another 
person whose modesty — 

282 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret 
about Huck’s share in the adventure in the finest 
dramatic manner he was master of, but the surprise 
it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as 
clamorous and effusive as it might have been under 
happier circumstances. However, the widow made 
a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so 
many compliments and so much gratitude upon 
Huck that he almost forgot the nearly intolerable 
discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely intoler- 
able discomfort of being set up as a target for every- 
body’s gaze and everybody’s laudations. 

The widow said she meant to give Huck a home 
under her roof and have him educated; and that 
when she could spare the money she would start him 
in business in a modest way. Tom’s chance was 
come. He said : 

'‘Huck don’t need it. Huck’s rich.” 

Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good man- 
ners of the company kept back the due* and proper 
complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But the 
silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it: 

“Huck’s got money. Maybe you don’t believe 
it, but he’s got lots of it. Oh, you needn’t smile 
— I reckon I can show you. You just wait a 
minute.” 

Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at 
each other with a perplexed interest — ^and inquir- 
ingly at Huck, who was tongue-tied. 

“Sid, what ails Tom?” said Aunt Polly. “He 
— ^well, there ain’t ever any making of that boy out. 
I never — 


283 


MARK TWAIN 


Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his 
sacks, and Aunt Polly did not finish her sentence, 
Tom pomed the mass of yellow coin upon the table 
and said: 

“There — ^what did I tell you? Half of it's 
Huck's and half of it’s mine!” 

The spectacle took the general breath away. All 
gazed, nobody spoke for a moment. Then there 
was a imanimous call for an explanation. Tom 
said he could fiunish it, and he did. The tale was 
long, but brimful of interest. There was scarcely 
an interruption from any one to break the charm of 
its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said: 

“I thought I had fixed up a little siuprise for 
this occasion, but it don’t amotmt to anything now. 
This one makes it sing mighty small, I’m willing to 
allow.” 

The money was counted. The sum amounted to 
a little over twelve thousand dollars. It was more 
than any one present had ever seen at one time 
before, though several persons were there who were 
worth considerably more than that in property. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


T he reader may rest satisfied that Tom’s and 
Hack’s windfall made a mighty stir in the 
poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a sum, 
all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was 
talked about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason 
of many of the citizens tottered under the strain of 
the unhealthy excitement. Every “haunted” house 
in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was 
dissected, plank by plank, and its foimdations dug 
up and ransacked for hidden treasure — ^and not by 
boys, but men— pretty grave, unromantic men, too, 
some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared 
they were courted, admired, stared at. The boys 
were not able to remember that their remarks had 
possessed weight before ; but now their sayings were 
treasimed and repeated; everything they did seemed 
somehow to be regarded as remarkable; they had 
evidently lost the power of doing and saying com- 
monplace things; moreover, their past history was 
raked up and discovered to bear marks of conspicu- 
ous originality. The village paper published bio- 
graphical sketches of the boys. 

The Widow Douglas put Hack’s money out at six 
per cent., and Judge Thatcher did the same with 
Tom’s at Aunt Polly’s request. Each lad had an 
28$ 


MARK TWAIN 


income, now, that was simply prodigious — a dollar 
for every week-day in the year and half of the 
Sundays. It was just what the minister got — ^no, 
it was what he was promised — ^he generally couldn’t 
collect it. A dollar and a quarter a week would 
board, lodge, and school a boy in those old simple 
days — ^and clothe him and wash him, too, for that 
matter. 

Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of 
Tom. He said that no commonplace boy would 
ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When 
Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom 
had taken her whipping at school, the Judge was 
visibly moved; and when she pleaded grace for the 
mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that 
whipping from her shoulders to his owm, the Judge 
said with a fine outburst that it was a noble, a 
generous, a magnanimous lie — a lie that was worthy 
to hold up its head and march down through history 
breast to breast with George Washington’s lauded 
Truth about the hatchet ! Becky thought her father 
had never looked so tall and so superb as when he 
walked the fioor and stamped his foot and said that. 
She went straight off and told Tom about it. 

Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer 
or a great soldier some day. He said he meant to 
look to it that Tom should be admitted to the 
National Military Academy and afterward trained 
in the best law school in the country, in order that 
he might be ready for either career or both. 

Huck Finn’s wealth and the fact that he was now 
under the Widow Douglas’s protection introduced 
2S6 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


him into society — no, dragged him into it, hurled 
him into it — and his sufferings were almost more 
than he could bear. The widow’s servants kept 
him clean and neat, combed and brushed, and they 
bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that 
had not one little spot or stain which he could press 
to his heart and know for a friend. He had to eat 
with knife and fork; he had to use napkin, cup, and 
plate; he had to learn his book, he had to go to 
church; he had to talk so properly that speech was 
become insipid in his mouth ; whithersoever he 
turned, the bars and shackles of civilization shut 
him in and bound him hand and foot. 

He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and 
then one day turned up missing. For forty-eight 
hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in 
great distress. The public were profoundly con- 
cerned; they searched high and low, they dragged 
the river for his body. Early the third morning 
Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old 
empty hogsheads down behind the abandoned 
slaughter-house, and in one of them he found the 
refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just break- 
fasted upon some stolen odds and ends of food, and 
was lying off, now, in comfort, with his pipe. He was 
unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin 
of rags that had made him picturesque in the days 
when he was free and happy. Tom routed him out, 
told him the trouble he had been causing, and urged 
him to go home. Huck’s face lost its tranquil con- 
tent, and took a melancholy cast. He said: 

'‘Don’t talk about it, Tom. I’ve tried it, and it 


MARK TWAIN 


don’t work; it don’t work, Tom. It ain’t for me; 
I ain’t used to it. The widder’s good to me, and 
friendly; but I can’t stand them ways. She makes 
me git up just at the same time every morning; she 
makes me wash, they comb me all to thunder; she 
won’t let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear 
them blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; 
they don’t seem to let any air git through ’em, some- 
how; and they’re so rotten nice that I can’t set 
down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher’s; I 
hain’t slid on a cellar-door for — well, it ’pears to 
be years ; I got to go to church and sweat and sweat 
— I hate them ornery sermons! I can’t ketch a 
fly in there, I can’t chaw. I got to wear shoes all 
Sunday. The widder eats by a bell; she goes to 
bed by a beU; she gits up by a bell — everything’s 
so awful reg’lar a body can’t stand it.” 

“Well, everybody does that way, Huck.” 

“Tom, it don’t make no difference. I ain’t 
everybody, and I can’t stand it. It’s awful to be 
tied up so. And grub comes too easy — I don’t 
take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask 
to go a-flshing; I got to ask to go in a-swimming — 
dem’d if I hain’t got to ask to do everything. 
Well, I’d got to talk so nice it wasn’t no comfort — 
I’d got to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, 
every day, to git a taste in my mouth, or I’d ’a’ 
died, Tom. The widder wouldn’t let me smoke; 
she wouldn’t let me yell, she wouldn’t let me gape, 
nor stretch, nor scratch, before folks — ” [Then with 
a spasm of special irritation and injury] — “And dad 
fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such 
288 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 


a woman! I had to shove, Tom — I just had to. 
And besides, that school’s going to open, and I’d 
’a’ had to go to it — well, I wouldn’t stand ihaty Tom. 
Looky here, Tom, being rich ain’t what it’s cracked 
up to be. It’s just worry and worry, and sweat and 
sweat, and a- wishing you was dead all the time. 
Now these clothes suits me, and this bar’l suits me, 
and I ain’t ever going to shake ’em any more. 
Tom, I wouldn’t ever got into all this trouble if it 
hadn’t ’a’ been for that money; now you just take 
my sheer of it along with your’n, and gimme a ten- 
center sometimes — ^not many times, becuz I don’t 
give a dem for a thing ’thout it’s tollable hard to 
git — and you go and beg off for me with the 
widder.” 

“Oh, Huck, you know I can’t do that. ’Tain’t 
fair; and, besides, if you’ll try this thing just awhile 
longer you’ll come to like it.” 

“Like it! Yes — the way I’d Hke a hot stove if 
I was to set on it long enough. No, Tom, I won’t 
be rich, and I won’t live in them cussed smothery 
houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogs- 
heads, and I’ll stick to ’em, too. Blame it all! just 
as we’d got guns, and a cave, and all just fixed to 
rob, here this dem foolishness has got to come up 
and spile it all!” 

Tom saw his opportunity — 

“Looky here, Huck, being rich ain’t going to keep 
me back from turning robber.” 

“No! Oh, good-licks, are you in real deadwood 
earnest, Tom?” 

“Just as dead earnest as I’m a-sitting here. But, 
289 


MARK TWAIN 


Huck, we can’t let you into the gang if you ain’t 
respectable, you know.” 

Huck’s joy was quenched. 

“Can’t let me in, Tom? Didn’t you let me go 
for a pirate?” 

“Yes, but that’s different. A robber is more 
high-toned than what a pirate is — as a general 
thing. In most countries they’re awful high up in 
the nobility — dukes and such.” 

“Now, Tom, hain’t you always ben friendly to 
me? You wouldn’t shet me out, would you, Tom? 
You wouldn’t do that, now, would you, Tom?” 

“Huck, I wouldn’t want to, and I don't want 
to — ^but what would people say? Why, they’d 
say, ‘Mph! Tom Sawyer’s Gang! pretty low char- 
acters in it!’ They’d mean you, Huck. You 
wouldn’t like that, and I wouldn’t.” 

Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a 
mental struggle. Finally he said: 

“Well, I’ll go back to the widder for a month 
and tackle it and see if I can come to stand it, if 
you’ll let me b’long to the gang, Tom.” 

“All right, Huck, it’s a whiz! Come along, old 
chap, and I’ll ask the widow to let up on you a 
little, Huck.” 

“Will you, Tom — ^now will you? That’s good. 
If she’ll let up on some of the roughest things. I’ll 
smoke private and cuss private, and crowd through 
or bust. When you going to start the gang and 
turn robbers?” 

“Oh, right off. We’ll get the boys together and 
have the initiation to-night, maybe.” 

2go 


ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER 

“Have the which?” 

“Have the initiation.” 

“What’s that?” 

“It’s to swear to stand by one another, and never 
tell the gang’s secrets, even if you’re chopped all to 
flinders, and kill anybody and all his family that 
hiirts one of the gang.” 

“That’s gay — that’s mighty gay, Tom, I tell 
you.” 

“Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing’s got 
to be done at midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest 
place you can find — a ha’nted house is the best, 
but they’re all ripped up now.” 

“Well, midnight’s good, an3rway, Tom.” 

“Yes, so it is. And you’ve got to swear on a 
coffin, and sign it with blood.” 

“Now, that’s something like! Why, it’s a million 
times bullier than pirating. I’ll stick to the widder 
till I rot, Tom; and if I git to be a reg’lar ripper 
of a robber, and everybody talking ’bout it, I 
reckon she’ll be proud she snaked me in out of 
the wet.” 


CONCLUSION 

S O endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a 
history of a boyy it must stop here; the story 
could not go much further without becoming the 
history of a man. When one writes a novel about 
k grown people, he knows exactly where to stop — ■ 

that is, with a marriage; but when he writes of 
juveniles, he must stop where he best can. 

Most of the characters that perform in this book 
still Hve, and are prosperous and happy. Some 
day it may seem worth while to take up the story 
of the yoimger ones again and see what sort of men 
and women they turned out to be; therefore it will 
be wisest not to reveal any of that part of their lives 
at present. 


THK END 


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